


Coloring Inside the Lines

by liketolaugh



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Autistic Link (Legend of Zelda), Gen, Link (Legend of Zelda) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Link (Legend of Zelda) Uses AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication), Link (Legend of Zelda) Uses Sign Language, Link (Legend of Zelda) has Chronic Pain, Link is Sixteen Years Old, Nonbinary Link (Legend of Zelda), Nonverbal Link (Legend of Zelda), Platonic Soulmates, i promise the canon divergence happens eventually, i thought that deserved clarification, the aac is the sheikah slate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 70,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: “How do you feel?” the Zora pressed after a very long moment, rocking forward just a little, eyes wide with worry. Her hands and arms were painted in soul paint of varying shades and colors, all plainly visible in her loose outfit. There was one particular streak of grass green on one of her palms, one that felt somehow intimately familiar.Link blinked at her, and discovered that his mouth didn’t want to speak the way hers did. His hands moved to do it instead, as if on instinct.I feel tired. What happened? Where are we?“We’re in the Shrine of Resurrection,” the Gerudo interrupted, sweeping in beside the Zora and setting a firm hand on her arm. Her eyes were narrow and uncompromising, though still, Link thought, warm. There was a child-sized smear of bright sunshine yellow soul paint on her cheek, and just a few scattered over her hands. “It’s no wonder you feel tired, you’ve been through quite an ordeal. But it’s time to get back to work.”Link blinked at her, blankly bemused.Who are you?he asked, in signs he seemed to recall only as he used them.
Relationships: Beedle & Link (Legend of Zelda), Daruk & Link & Mipha & Revali & Urbosa (Legend of Zelda), Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link/Mipha (Legend of Zelda), Urbosa & Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 190
Kudos: 527





	1. Chapter 1

“…ink.”

“Oh, goodness, he really is waking up.”

“It’s certainly about time.”

“…Open your eyes…”

“Just a little more, brother, you’re almost there.”

“Open your eyes…”

“Come on now, haven’t you slept long enough?”

Link’s eyes flickered open, squinting through the painfully bright light, to the feeling of a thick fluid draining from around him and a chorus of voices. Four heads poked in at various points above him, concerned faces slowly coming into focus. One of them, a Zora, broke into a soft smile as he blearily met her eyes.

“You’re awake,” she said, clear pleasure warming her voice.

“Finally,” the Rito muttered, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff and abruptly turning and stalking away.

Link blinked, slow and heavy, and pushed himself upright. His body felt strange, the fingertips cold and tingling, his limbs heavy. His breath came hard. Even his face felt stiff and numb, and he reached up to rub the feeling back into it. The Zora moved as if to help him sit, and then stopped herself, instead hovering anxiously.

Link shifted his open palms to fist at his sleepy eyes instead, and the four around him watched silently. Something told him this was odd.

He looked down at himself, wet and nearly naked and all of his skin blank and bare of any soul paint, though it was splotched with scarring. Something told him this was odd, too. He held his arms out and turned them over, but nothing revealed itself.

There should be something there, shouldn’t there? Streaks and splashes of soul paint where others had changed his life, where he had changed theirs? _Something?_

“How do you feel?” the Zora pressed after a very long moment, rocking forward just a little, eyes wide with worry. Her hands and arms were painted in soul paint of varying shades and colors, all plainly visible in her loose outfit. There was one particular streak of grass green on one of her palms, one that felt somehow intimately familiar.

Link blinked at her, and discovered that his mouth didn’t want to speak the way hers did. His hands moved to do it instead, as if on instinct. _I feel tired. What happened? Where are we?_

“We’re in the Shrine of Resurrection,” the Gerudo interrupted, sweeping in beside the Zora and setting a firm hand on her arm. Her eyes were narrow and uncompromising, though still, Link thought, warm. There was a child-sized smear of bright sunshine yellow soul paint on her cheek, and just a few scattered over her hands. “It’s no wonder you feel tired, you’ve been through quite an ordeal. But it’s time to get back to work.”

Link blinked at her, blankly bemused.

 _Who are you?_ he asked, in signs he seemed to recall only as he used them. They felt familiar, but he was sure he didn’t remember them.

In fact, he realized, with a slow-growing fear, he didn’t remember _anything._

His sudden dread was accentuated by the silence that swallowed the room at his question. Even the Rito looked startled, his aloofness shattered by something about Link’s confusion.

The Goron stepped forward just to lean down – way down, until he was only a little above Link’s eye level.

“What do you remember, little brother?” he asked gently.

Instead of answering, Link looked around, his gaze roving slowly over the room. It was dark and enclosed; the main sources of light were the tank he was still sat in, and a small pedestal on the other end of the room. It was a relatively large space, for so little furnishing, but the crowding of people made it look smaller.

He was still mostly naked, and he was starving. He wondered if he could find food nearby. Clothes. He hugged himself, loose and uncomfortable, and forced himself not to shiver in the open air.

Finally, Link met the Goron’s eyes and shook his head. The Zora gasped quietly, her hands covering her mouth in horror.

Link swallowed.

The Goron took a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment, and then opened them again and smiled confidently at Link. There was a green soulmark on him too, a long, broad patch in the crook of his elbow that matched the one on the Zora, almost blending in with the smattering array of handprints he had all over both forearms.

“I’m Daruk,” he introduced himself without any further hesitation. “Usually with this sign.” And he gestured, with the sort of ease that only came with practice, in a way that Link interpreted as _rock roast._

It was almost enough to make Link smile, though he was still a little wary, with the thick tension around them not yet broken. _Hello, Daruk. I think my name is Link._ He just fingerspelled his own name; he likely wouldn’t need to refer to himself in the third person much.

Daruk’s smile turned a little sad, for some reason. “Good to meet you, little brother.”

He looked over and gave the Zora a significant look, complete with raised eyebrows. She swallowed, and then stepped forward. The Rito crossed his wings over his chest and stepped back, looking uncomfortable and resentful. Link saw a grass green smear on his upper wing, the exact same shade as on Mipha’s hand and Daruk’s arm.

“Hello, Link,” the Zora said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “My name is Mipha. We use this sign.” She made the sign for _gentle._ Link thought it suited her.

 _Hello, Mipha,_ Link echoed obediently. He really was hungry. He wanted food. He glanced at the Gerudo, drawing his legs up to his chest, and after a second, she sighed.

“Urbosa,” she said simply, and one of her hands rose to make a _U,_ which she dragged through the air in the shape of a thunderbolt. Link nodded, and just echoed the sign this time.

He felt kind of… lightheaded. Distant. Something in his chest thrummed with nervous energy. He had to move. He had to _do something._

With a grunt, he swung his legs over the edge of the table, and then glanced expectantly at the last of them, the Rito, who gave a long, put-upon sigh.

“Revali,” he said flatly. A short moment passed, and then Urbosa snapped, drawing Link’s attention, and she signed something Link could only bring himself to read as _peacock._

Link felt himself smile, echoed the sign again, and then pushed himself off the table. His knees nearly gave out when he hit the ground, and he caught himself on the edge of the table, took a breath, and pushed himself away. The others hovered, their silence heavy and awkward, and he found himself heading for the only other glowing point in the room. He leaned over it, frowning faintly, and flinched when it spun and offered him a slim tablet.

It looked familiar too.

“This is a Sheikah Slate,” someone told him. The voice made him jump and look around; it didn’t belong to anyone who had spoken so far, except… except maybe when he was first waking up. But who…? “Pick it up. You’ll need it for your journey.”

Link didn’t understand what the voice was talking about, but despite that, he found that he trusted it. Trusted her. He didn’t remember her voice, but he recognized it.

He reached out and took the slate. Revali arched his crested eyebrows.

“Well, at least he listens to someone,” he bit out, and didn’t even jump when the bricked-up doorway suddenly opened.

It was too dark to see well, but Urbosa waved him on expectantly, the others hovering as if waiting for Link’s lead, and Link only hesitated for a moment before heading in that direction. In the hallway, he almost tripped over a storage chest, but when he opened it he found clothing – old and undersized, but he was desperately relieved to be able to cover himself and his too-bare body, and he pulled them on so fast his clumsy fingers fumbled. He struggled with the shirt, one of his shoulders painfully protesting the stretch, but with effort he got that on too.

There was a rough, loose sheath for a sword, and more belts for a shield and a bow. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled those on as well, wondering how he remembered how to strap them into place.

Mipha crouched just beside him as he finished, smiling encouragingly. “Just a little further,” she coaxed, nodding down the hall.

He nodded without looking at her, pushed himself up, and went for the pedestal without being told. A split second passed as Link examined it, noting the obvious similarities to the one that had held the Sheikah Slate. But there was nowhere to put it, so…

“The Sheikah Slate goes-” Mipha started, just as the voice from before walked him through the same thing.

Without hesitation, Link took the Sheikah Slate and held it up to the pedestal, and the door opened. He flinched from the light, turning his head away, and then shook himself.

The others were waiting for his move again.

Link went, overly aware of the four followers at his back. He stumbled over the doorway and caught himself again, the faint numbness of his limbs refusing to leave, and hesitated for a split second before the ledge blocking his way, squinting up warily.

Urbosa stepped past him without a word, jumped, and pulled herself up, turning around as soon as she was atop it to look at him expectantly. Revali jumped too, rising with a flap of his wings, and Mipha waved him on coaxingly.

Link turned back to the ledge and jumped, grabbing the edge of the rock shelf firmly. He pulled himself up, but his body felt heavy, and his fingers trembled with weakness and disuse. The skin of his shoulder and stomach sent shooting pain out to the rest of his body.

His grip slipped and he hit the ground again, lost his balance, and fell back into the puddle behind him, soaking himself anew in freezing water.

Daruk swore, loud and startled. Mipha breathed out a soft, sympathetic, “Oh, no.”

Link clenched his jaw, pushed himself back up, and stepped forward to jump up the rock shelf again. This time, he pulled himself up, pushed grimly forward down the rest of the hall, and, shielding his face, headed unerringly for the exit. Urbosa and Revali let him by without a word, unmistakable pity on the Rito’s face. Tepid water dripped down Link’s back.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was running for the edge. From the vantage point he found there, Link could see. _Everything._

There was a lot of everything to see.

For a long moment, he stared, willing his empty mind to recognize any of the vast wilderness spread before him. Any of the ruins he could see in the distance, any of the people at his back. The castle encased in a dark fog. But there was nothing. He failed.

“This way, Link,” Mipha said gently, ushering him along. He turned helplessly, and his eyes landed on the only sign of life within shouting distance: someone in a hooded cloak, just settling down by a fire under an overhang.

Link walked. He didn’t trust himself not to slip if he tried to run while he was still so weak with hunger, and he could already see some apples and mushrooms that he could grab along the way. He felt hungry enough to eat a horse.

The others were starting to exchange looks and murmurs behind him. None of them had touched him yet.

“Wasn’t expecting this,” Daruk stage-whispered hoarsely. “What do we do now? We can’t just leave him, look at the kid.”

“He’s no older or younger than he was before,” Urbosa said sharply. “He’s sixteen, not six. A little bit of experience and he’ll be perfectly capable. Or do you have a better proposal?”

“No one is questioning his qualifications even now, Urbosa,” Mipha said, “but you must admit Daruk has a point-”

“What point is that?”

Link snatched an apple off the tree, jumping for it, and then lifted it to his mouth to bite down, spun, and signed, _I can hear you, and I’m not a broken toy._ He cracked the bite off, chewed, and swallowed, and then, with one hand full obscuring his sign a little, _Did we used to be friends? Is that how you know me?_

“…Brothers,” Daruk said, after just a beat, with a small, clearly pained smile at Link. “Sorry, little bro, didn’t mean to make you feel left out. We’re just in a bit of an awkward situation now.”

Urbosa scoffed. So did Revali, who stormed right past them to lean on the overhang by the hooded figure, which only spared him a glance before looking back down.

Link stared at Daruk for a moment, unsure, but then nodded firmly, kept gnawing at the apple, and leaned down to snatch a handful of mushrooms too.

He kept going, making a beeline down the hill towards the campfire. The mutters stopped.

He’d finished his apple by the time he reached it, but there was another one, skin wrinkled and cooked in the fire, and without thinking he snatched that too.

“I beg your pardon!” the hooded figure snapped, lifting his head to reveal hard eyes and thick white hair, with a bushy beard to match. “I do believe that apple is mine! Don’t go about taking food that isn’t yours, now.”

Link flinched, nearly dropping the apple by reflex alone, except even the first hadn’t sated his hunger and he felt like he hadn’t eaten in years. He stared blankly at the old man, frozen in place.

Almost right away, the old man’s expression softened. “Easy there, I am only pulling your leg. Please, help yourself. I can always make another.”

Link let out a relieved sigh, and without further hesitation dropped down beside the fire and started digging into the fire-baked apple. When he found a long, thin stick, he took that too and started sliding the mushrooms onto it, and the man didn’t protest.

Revali wasn’t looking at him, arms crossed in front of him, Link noticed. In fact, his head was deliberately turned away. Urbosa had turned to survey the horizon, hand on her hip, and Daruk appeared to be keeping a watch of sorts, intent eyes on the paths closest.

Mipha was watching Link with an openly and unabashedly worried expression. It could just be that she was the most caring, but Link suspected that they specifically had been close.

He wondered why he didn’t have marks from any of them.

It wasn’t until he had finished the second apple and the mushrooms were roasting by the fire that he finally turned to the old man. The man smiled at him crookedly, seeming to understand.

“Unusual to see someone here these days,” he noted, with an odd glimmer in his eyes. “What brings you here?”

Link hesitated, glancing at Mipha, who just nodded encouragingly. He took the risk, figuring it was better than remaining silent. _I’m not sure. Who are you?_

“A quiet one, hm?” the man murmured, though he didn’t look as surprised as Link might have expected- and then, before Link could get too disappointed, “I am just an old man living alone in the woods, no need to get into my life story.”

Link paused for a beat without looking away, and then prompted cautiously, _Where are we?_

A lizard scurried by Link’s knee. A beetle buzzed behind his head, and the wind whistled faintly.

“This place is commonly known as the Great Plateau,” the man said mildly, gesturing to their surroundings. “According to legend, it is the founding place of Hyrule. Its glory days are past now, of course.”

Hyrule. That sounded… familiar, in the same way that the distant voice did, or the Sheikah Slate looked.

The man gestured over his shoulder. “I assume you’ve seen the ruins there, boy?” Link nodded. “A hundred years ago, it was a place to hold sacred ceremonies. A touchpoint for the divine. Now, of course, it’s but a ghost of its former self. Such is the price of a century of neglect.”

The narrative sent a wave of melancholy crashing over Link, but without any solid idea of what to say, he just reached for the skewer and started pulling the roughly roasted mushrooms off of it. The old man chuckled. It sounded bitter.

“Anything can be repaired,” Mipha said quietly, the first time she had addressed the old man directly. Link watched him smile, a little quirk of his lips.

“We can only hope,” he murmured, and then nodded at Link. “Eat. It’s quite clear you’ve been without food for a while.”

Link ate, but half his attention was already preoccupied trying to decide what to do next. He needed to look around first, he decided, get a feel for the area, find out if there were any other people nearby. The sun was high, he wouldn’t need to find a place to settle for the night for a while.

He’d have to talk to the others. His… friends, these strangers who knew him. It seemed that they had something in mind already.

He finished the mushrooms, set the skewer aside, and signed an absent _thank you_ to the old man, who merely nodded. When no further conversation was made, Link climbed up the overhang and looked around.

The temple the old man had indicated was by far the most prominent, but there were some others visible nearby too. There was a forest, a lake…

Urbosa pulled herself up beside him, startling him into flinching nearly hard enough to destabilize, and when he recovered, he looked at her in silent question. She studied him for a long time, eyes shadowed, and he bore it grimly, grip tight on the rocky outcrop. Birds cawed overhead.

“We were on a mission together, before this,” she said at last, picking each word with care. “It would be… appreciated, if you agreed to continue helping.”

She looked guarded. It was clear that she thought he would refuse.

“Urbosa,” Daruk said with warning, tall enough that he didn’t even need to climb the overhang to frown at her.

Link hesitated. The world stretched out in front of him, expansive and unknowable, and Link felt insignificant in the face of it. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to do anything… but he supposed he would have to find out.

 _The woman who was speaking to me,_ he said. _Do you know her?_

Urbosa softened visibly. “Yes. Her name is Zelda. The two of you were quite close.”

That was more than believable. The sound of her voice alone made him want to trust her. _Are we going to find her?_

Urbosa looked away, then grimaced at herself and met his eyes again. “As soon as we can.”

Link nodded, and then nodded again, his heart rattling in his chest. _What do we do?_

Abruptly, Revali took off, making Link jerk. Daruk chuckled and Urbosa sighed, and Mipha explained to Link, “He’s gone to find something. He should be back soon.”

Link nodded again absently, eyes on the horizon, and paused as his eyes landed on something glinting in the middle of the lake. Fish leapt, the splash not quite reaching his ears, and light glimmered off the water, but it was the metal flash on the island that caught his eye.

A sword, sticking out of the ground. He wanted that.

He pushed himself off the overhang, waved vaguely to the old man, and then walked past him towards the lake. He hesitated for a split second, then looked at Mipha, who had walked with him, and explained, _I’m going to get the sword. I’ll be right back._

Mipha’s returning smile had an undertone that was difficult for Link to read. “Alright, Link. I’ll be right here.”

Link smiled briefly, and then slid into the water and swam over to the small island in the lake. He climbed onto it and pulled the sword out, turning it over in front of him. His hand gripped it instinctively, and its weight felt somehow familiar. He thought maybe he’d used a sword before.

It was rusty. It would likely break easily. He put it in the sheath anyway, where it rattled, slightly too small.

When he returned to the shore, muscles sore from the exercise already, Revali was waiting with the others, foot tapping impatiently. As soon as Link climbed out, without a word, he turned away and started walking somewhere else. Link shot Mipha a questioning look.

“There’s somewhere you need to go first,” Mipha explained kindly, starting to reach out and then pulling back again to beckon him forward instead. “Revali was kind enough to go and find it.”

“If I catch you calling me _kind_ again, I’ll tell him something you don’t want him to know,” Revali said without looking back. Mipha sighed, a put-upon shadow flickering across her expression.

“My mistake,” she murmured, and then, to Link, “Careful, there’s…”

Link had already seen, and in the same way he had recognized a Goron on sight, had recognized a Zora and a Rito and a Gerudo with their round ears, he recognized the bokoblin lounging on the path in front of him, munching idly on a roasted chicken leg.

Link had his sword, but he felt apprehensive enough that he still backed carefully away, ducked out of sight, and skirted around the beast, avoiding confrontation. There was a faint buzz in his ears, the grunt of the bokoblin too loud.

When he was finally far enough away to take a deep breath and look back at the others, each of them were wearing peculiar expressions like he’d done something extraordinarily strange. He cocked his head, releasing the sword where he’d started to subconsciously grip it, and studied them. _What’s wrong?_

Daruk broke the spell first, striding forward to give him an easy grin. “Nothing, little brother. Not feeling confrontational today?”

No. He really wasn’t. There was a faint ache in his muscles, and he felt stretched thin in a way that made him certain he couldn’t take more than a couple of hits before collapsing. _Should I be?_

Were they going to abandon him if he wasn’t right? He wouldn’t blame them. They must feel like they had lost their friend.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Mipha said firmly, almost as soon as he’d finished the thought. She nodded him on, where Revali had changed his path to accommodate Link’s diversion, looking faintly impatient. “Go on.”

Revali’s path didn’t attempt to cross with another bokoblin the whole way to where they were going, which Link was grateful for; it wasn’t hard to notice the way it wound to avoid them, giving each monster a carefully measured berth. Urbosa muttered darkly under her breath, but Link tried not to listen too closely, following the Rito as he led the way.

Revali led them to a small cavern set between two large rocks, something set into it that Link noticed had a pedestal similar to the one where he’d woken up. Revali leaned against one rock, and gestured inside.

“Go on,” he said curtly, without looking at Link. “It somewhat resembles the pedestal you used to leave the shrine.”

Link looked at him, nodded, and then stepped inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is what I've been working on for the past couple weeks instead of, uh, literally any of my WIPs.
> 
> The BOTW train hit me hard, guys, which is pretty weird since I first completed the game, uh, a while ago. This fic is based loosely on a Master Mode run (hence the plateau lynel) and I'm actually playing along as I write, which is really good motivation to write quickly, it turns out.
> 
> Unclear whether I attach most strongly to characters I view as autistic, or if I attach to characters and then make them autistic. Either way, I'm enjoying writing nonverbal Link a lot.
> 
> Minor edits made 11/27/20 - added references to scarring


	2. Chapter 2

Like at the base of what became the tower, his friends waited for Link outside the shrine. He suspected they were talking about him. That was fine.

A lot had happened, he realized distantly.

Link came stumbling out of the shrine an hour after he went in, his fingers trembling, feeling like he’d been scooped out and his insides scrambled. His chest hurt with the effort of breathing. Mipha rose to meet him as soon as she saw his face, eyes wide with concern.

“What happened?” she demanded, hurrying over to look him over with a healer’s intent.

Link shook his head, scratching anxiously at his arms, and then, after a long moment, reluctantly stopped to sign, _Nothing. I don’t know. Nothing._

Then he reached up and bit into the meat of his thumb instead, trying to gnaw away the agitation. Urbosa’s appearance made him jerk back, involuntarily tensing up, but she just clucked at him.

“There was something in there,” she concluded, eyes sharp and expectant.

Two somethings, really: a monk that told him they had waited for him – for a hundred years, if the old man was to be believed – and given him a little orb of magic that he could still feel pulsing in his chest.

And a machine, which had not turned out to be that dangerous, but the mere sight of which had left Link trembling like a leaf, heart racing.

“Just breathe, child,” the old man said, suddenly there – this had the opposite effect of making Link jump violently, but when he looked up, the man was giving him a gentle, calming smile, hands lifted in a gesture of peace. For the first time, Link could see a smear of yellow in the same shade Urbosa bore on his palm. “You did well to complete the shrine and get the treasure. I expected nothing less.”

Link stared up at him, then took a long, deep breath and nodded, his heart starting to slow and his breath coming a little easier.

 _Paraglider, please,_ he requested weakly, trying to hide the shake of his hands. He just wanted to get off this plateau and to the castle. He needed to help the person inside.

No one deserved to drown in the malevolence he’d seen from the top of the tower.

The man laughed, loud and booming. “It won’t be that easy, I’m afraid! Though I appreciate your enthusiasm.” At Link’s crestfallen look, his expression gentled again. “There are greater things at work than I’ve let on thus far. I ask you to trust me.”

Link bit his cheek, then lifted his hand and bit his fingertips too, jittery with stress, and then looked at Mipha. Mipha gave him a sad smile, heavy with history, and nodded.

Link looked back at the old man, and nodded reluctantly. In return, the man gave him a warm smile.

“Ask one of your friends to explain the uses of the Sheikah Slate to you; it’s a vital piece of ancient Sheikah technology, most of which was lost long ago. You will use it to operate towers and shrines like the one you just completed, but it has other uses too.” The man paused to let Link absorb that, and then continued, “There are three more shrines on this plateau. I need you to complete all of them before I give you the paraglider. Meet me at the top of the tower when your friend has explained the Sheikah Slate.”

Link swallowed, and then nodded grimly. The man gave him another gentle smile, and then walked away.

Then Link put his head down, and rubbed his arms like he was cold. He _felt_ cold.

It was a lot. Everything was a lot. He sat on the edge of the shrine and shivered, and the others stayed quiet around him, letting him rest. At least for a minute.

After an eternity, Link sat up and gave Mipha a pleading look, and Mipha scooted closer and started to walk him through how to use to Sheikah Slate – how to warp from place to place, how to store items in it, how to use the map and the scope and the note-taking function.

Almost right away, Link opened up the note-taking function and put in, _The Isolated Plateau: Complete all of the shrines on the plateau to get the paraglider._

When he saw Mipha looking at him, he explained, _I don’t want to forget._

Her expression softened, and she nodded and stood up. “Go meet with him. We’ll be waiting here for you.”

Link nodded, but then hesitated. He glanced back at the others, gathered on one side of the shrine, and then to Mipha again. _I’m sorry I ruined your plans._

Pain flickered across Mipha’s face. “You didn’t ruin anything,” she said firmly, attracting the attention of the rest of the group. “You did nothing wrong, Link. Bad things happened, that’s all.”

Link studied her for a moment, struggling to gauge her sincerity. Nauseating guilt roiled in his stomach. _I’m sorry I forgot you._

Mipha opened her mouth, and then closed it, and Link started to look away. Both of them were rescued by Daruk, crouching beside them with a familiar easy smile.

“Just gives us a chance to get to know each other again,” he said flippantly. “Don’t worry about it, little brother. Just do what you gotta do. We’re with you.”

Link stared at him, then took a deep breath and nodded. A quick glance told him that Urbosa and Revali weren’t quite as forgiving. He wondered if they were just like that, or if he had…

Link discarded the thought forcefully, set his jaw, and then opened his Sheikah Slate and activated the warp function.

* * *

The nearest shrine turned out to be only a fairly short walk away, buried among some of the smaller ruins. He explained this to the others as confidently as he could when he met them at the bottom of the tower, and even Urbosa made appropriately agreeable noises as he mapped out a rough route from each shrine to the next, holding up his slate for them to examine.

He placed it at his hip as they started to approach the ruins, and slowed down dramatically as they started to come across half-buried, broken-down machines.

They looked like… like massive versions of the one he’d encountered in Oman Au’s shrine. And they sent enough heavy, implacable dread rippling through him that they made his footsteps falter.

“Onward, Link,” Urbosa reminded him firmly, and he gave a distracted nod, unable to take his eyes off the one he was passing. It felt like it would-

He heard a sound from in front of him, great and grinding. His head snapped up.

The buried machine directly in front of him had lit up with a whine, and it was looking straight at him, its single eye bright with power. Link’s chest throbbed, and with a shout loud enough to hurt his throat, he grasped blindly for the weapon strapped to his back, the nearly-shattered rusty sword, and threw it at the machine, panic making his motions rough and uncoordinated.

It shattered against it with no visible effect.

 _“Run!”_ Urbosa snapped, and Link made a snatching motion at Mipha’s wrist, missed, and stumbled into a run anyway when he saw he’d caught her attention. Mipha shouted too, then, but he didn’t quite catch it.

The next thing he knew, he was halfway to the temple the old man had pointed out to him, his lungs aching with the strain of his breath. A bokoblin that had caught sight of him swung its bat with a screech, and with strength Link hadn’t realized he possessed, he shoved it off the edge with a roar.

Then he glanced back to make sure the others were still with him – they were, if significantly behind – and kept running.

They didn’t catch up until Link was inside the temple, tucking himself behind the set of statues at the head of the temple, his legs folding under him as he wrapped his arms around himself, shaking. His face was wet, his wrist in his mouth again as he chewed on it in a struggle to calm himself, his breath so fast and shallow that it was making him lightheaded.

Why was he so scared?

The other four murmured for a few moments once they found him, and then Daruk came and lowered himself in front of Link, kneeling on the ground.

“You seem scared, brother,” he said, unbearably kind.

Link took a deep, shuddering breath, took his wrist from his mouth, and signed, _Hate them. Hate them, hate them, hate them, hate them-_

“I know,” Daruk said, in a deep and soothing murmur. “I know, but you’re alright, brother. You’re safe in here. Ain’t nothing around to get you.”

Link nodded, reaching up to rub at his face with the heel of his palm. _Sorry. I’m scared. Sorry._ Where were the machines, were any of the ones here alive too, was that one going to dig itself out of the ground and come for him?

“Nothing to be sorry for, little brother.”

 _Can’t catch my breath,_ Link managed after a moment, hands shaking hard enough to making his sign almost illegible. It felt shameful to admit, and the way Daruk’s expression softened just made it worse.

“I know, brother. You’re breathing too quickly. Count with me and breathe in. One… two… three…”

Outside, a bokoblin snarled. A rock tumbled down a hill. Something clattered, and it was coming closer, closer-

Link breathed in, slow and struggling.

“Breathe out, one… two… three…”

For a while, that was all; Daruk and Mipha sat on either side of Link while he tried to get himself to settle, patting his thighs and chewing on his fingers. Revali and Urbosa stood like silent sentries at each doorway, keeping watch, and Link discovered that that was reassuring, too.

Nothing would surprise them. Nothing would surprise him.

Eventually, when he could breathe again, Link reached out for Mipha, missed, and attracted her attention anyway. _Am I acting too strange?_

“You’ve lost your memory,” Mipha said softly. “I’m not sure you _could_ be acting ‘too strange’ for that. It’s okay, Link.”

Link bit his cheek, unconvinced. _Urbosa and Revali don’t like me._

“Revali is always like this,” Mipha assured him, attracting a scoff from the Rito that she steadfastly ignored. “Urbosa is… more complicated. But she’s worried about someone.”

Link hesitated. _Zelda?_ he asked, guessing at the fingerspelling.

Mipha’s eyes shadowed, and she nodded, signing a quick _princess Z,_ which Link guessed was Zelda’s name-sign. He wondered what she was like. Regal, to earn a name like that? Or picky?

Were they friends?

“She’s known Zelda since the girl was a child,” Mipha explained. “Much like you and I, but closer – I believe she was friends with Zelda’s mother.”

Link tucked the bits of information away like something precious, tempted to enter it into his Sheikah Slate. He almost asked who he had been, too. How they knew each other. Since they were young, Mipha had said?

He almost asked why his skin was bare, too. What he’d failed to do so thoroughly that he’d made no difference to anyone.

“Urbosa’s a bit abrupt at the best of times, too,” Daruk interrupted, making Link look over at him. He grinned at Link, eyes bright. “Don’t worry too much, little brother. She don’t mean anything by it.”

Link nodded uncertainly. _They’re not mad?_

“Not at you,” Daruk said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Link took a breath, nodded, and then stood up, brushing himself off roughly. _The sun is starting to set, but I think I can maybe still manage a shrine before we settle down tonight._ He hesitated, then added quickly, _Not the one in the ruins._

What if they were all surrounded by the machines? What would he do then?

“We’ll figure something out for that,” Mipha promised earnestly, standing up with him. The motion attracted the attention of Urbosa and Revali, who turned towards them, the former only for a moment before returning to scanning the horizon. At Revali’s arched eyebrow, Mipha elaborated, “For the shrine in the ruins.”

Revali muttered something darkly, and then said more clearly, “There’s a white-mane lynel between here and the second-nearest shrine. We’ll have to steer around it, perhaps skirt the cliff edge.”

The name stirred the faintest recognition in the back of his brain, and with it a faint sense of anxiety, but nothing like the way Daruk and Urbosa swore and Mipha hissed. He gave them a questioning look, and Daruk grimaced.

“Lynels are tough at the best of the times, and it’s pretty obvious you’re still recovering,” he explained lowly. “Plus white-mane lynels are nearly as bad as they get. Revali’s right. We’ll have to steer clear.”

Link nodded, still not quite understanding, but certainly getting the idea. _I can skirt a cliff edge,_ he agreed. Anything that meant he didn’t have to go right back to the ruins.

Mipha gave him a pleased smile. “That’s good, Link. I wanted to ask you something before we went though.” Link cocked his head. “That sword you took- do you remember how to use it?”

Link hesitated. It was enough that Mipha deflated, just a little, and he felt like a failure all over again.

“We’ll review and see if it helps,” Mipha said determinedly, and then walked him through the motions with her own empty hands, taking him through a sword drill step by step.

Halfway through, his body recognized it, and he sped up to complete it on his own under her proud smile. He all but beamed back, relieved in a way he hadn’t been since he’d woken up. The sword felt more comfortable in his hands.

“Muscle memory,” Revali said with a nod – some of the tension had drained out of him, too, Link realized. “Maybe now you’ll stop avoiding the damn bokoblins and we can actually get somewhere.”

Link’s smile fell, and Mipha frowned at him. _“Revali.”_

Revali looked unrepentant.

Link nodded silently, and Urbosa turned to cock an eyebrow at him.

“Ready to go?” she asked, in a tone that suggested she would have strong words for him if he refused. He bit his cheek, glanced out the shattered wall to the broken-down machines that still gave him that awful aching nausea, and nodded anyway. If any of them woke up, he’d just run again. Run somewhere else.

He checked his map and started walking.

When he came across a bokoblin camp at the bottom of a hill, noticed the rocks at the top, and pushed the rocks down into the camp to crush them- Urbosa actually laughed. Then she reminded him to loot their weapons and their parts, the cracked-off horns and broken fangs that Mipha admitted would be useful for elixirs if he caught some insects or lizards to brew with them.

It was possible Urbosa didn’t hate him after all.

Their group silently rearranged once they came within sight of the lynel, a large and intimidating beast in the far distance. Revali took the front position, Daruk the back; Mipha stayed by Link’s left, dangerously close to the cliff edge, and Urbosa to his right, keeping a sharp eye on the lynel itself. Mipha motioned Link down, and he crouched and discovered that he knew how to move almost silently, if he wanted to.

And from the reactions of the others, he did. He kept a wary eye on the lynel alongside Urbosa, and crept past it. He hesitated by the camp, glancing up at Urbosa, but with a grim face, she motioned him on, and Link snuck past that too.

By the time they reached the broken-down cabin, it was dark, and the old man was sitting on a log by another fire, this one with a pot set over it. He looked up and waved cheerily as they approached, a small quirk to his lips again.

“A spot of trouble?” he asked sympathetically, motioning for them to sit.

“He balked at the guardians in the ruins,” Urbosa said curtly, kneeling instead of sitting, in such a way that it would be easy to rise quickly.

The old man’s smile fell a little, making Link flinch, and he sighed. “Well, I suppose that’s to be expected,” he murmured, and then, to Link, “You will have no end of chances with it, of course. There are two more that you may tackle first if you prefer.”

Link nodded without looking up, and then grabbed his bow, stood up, and walked away. He’d seen a boar or two in the forest, and there was no food in the pot. He was hungry again.

It took a couple of tries, but before long he had a boar shot and (somewhat sloppily, he recognized) cleaned; he washed himself in the pond and then came back, and the old man let out a pleased hum when he saw Link’s prize.

“Ah, meat,” he sighed, while Link checked the pot and started to pull out some of the other food he’d grabbed on the way back- honey, Hylian mushrooms, a couple of apples. “You know, a few weeks ago I came up with the most marvelous recipe-”

Link listened with half an ear while he set to preparing a meal, surprised to find that he remembered this fairly well. Well enough that he was close to smiling again by the time the food went into the pot, cut up into pieces and glazed generously in honey. Enough for everyone, even.

When he offered it to them, though, each of them refused. At his crestfallen expression, Mipha said gently, “It should keep wonderfully if you store it in your Sheikah Slate.”

Not entirely consoled, Link nonetheless put all of it away save for what he himself wanted to eat, and the matter was not mentioned again.

The sun was setting by the time he finished, and he was yawning almost every other breath, exhaustion knocking the wind out of him and making his limbs heavier than ever. He rubbed at his face, annoyed, and the old man chuckled.

“You may stay in my hut tonight if you need, my friend. In these times, we’d best stick together. Remember that.”

Link smiled at him gratefully, and signed, _Thank you._

He had a creeping suspicion that he knew what the old man’s spicy ‘meat and seafood’ dish was missing. He hoped none of his friends would mind him doubling back to the lake; he thought he remembered seeing some fish there when he’d gone for the sword.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re: the lynel - yeah, Master Mode puts a lynel in the starting area. Which would be bad enough if it were a red lynel, but the fact that it was a white had me terrified. (I loved it.)
> 
> Link remembers nothing consciously, but there are enough parts of the brain dedicated to different kinds of memory that I don't think it'd necessarily be a complete loss.


	3. Chapter 3

Urbosa was a little annoyed, but Mipha was delighted, and Daruk gave him a loud and booming laugh. (Revali had rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, but Link was coming to expect that from him.)

In the early hours of the afternoon, Link surprised the old man with what was apparently a nearly perfect replica of the dish he’d talked so much about the night before. The man’s delighted surprise made Link feel warm, but not as warm as the warm doublet the man gave him as thanks.

It was much more comfortable than the old shirt he’d been wearing, if a little loose.

For good measure, Link brewed a few elixirs under Mipha’s direction – a hasty elixir with some hightail lizards, a mighty one with some beetles, a spicy one just in case – and then checked his map one last time, waved to the old man, and left, already wearing the warm doublet.

From Owa Daim, he got another rune, one that stopped time, and a ball of magic that pulsed in his chest alongside the first.

A trek across the mountain led him to Keh Namut, where he got a third rune, to make ice with, and another orb to match.

Then, followed by the murmurs of his friends, he climbed to the top of the mountain, sat there, and watched the beast writhe around the castle until the sun set.

 _I’m going to save her,_ he signed with conviction, eyes on the distance. But it was hard to make himself believe it. Just the thought of going near the ruins made him cold, and he rubbed his arms apprehensively.

The light gleamed oddly off the back of his hand, and he looked down at something he had just started to notice, coming out of Owa Daim’s shrine.

It looked like soul paint, the faintest shade off the color of his skin, except it was too perfect, too crisp: three triangles arranged into a larger one, with tight corners and straight lines. It felt familiar; it felt important.

He wished he understood more about what he was meant to do and why.

Daruk and Mipha finally teamed up to coax him back down, and he hiked partway down the mountain again, crushed another bokoblin camp under boulders, and slept by the fire, guarded by his friends, one hand on his as-yet-unused rusty sword. He felt jittery and on-edge, but that didn’t keep him from being exhausted enough to pass out almost as soon as his head hit the ground, forgetting to even eat.

Link woke the next morning with cotton in his mouth and something awful and sickening crawling on his bones. The sun gleamed too brightly off the snow; the fire had burnt out overnight. His friends didn’t seem bothered, already awake and talking quietly, though they stopped when he stirred and pushed himself tentatively upright.

Something about the motion made him grind his teeth, a nearly painful sense of vertigo sweeping through him. Like just the effort of keeping track of how his limbs moved was setting his nerves aflame. It was worse than the lingering stiffness and ache from the exertion of the previous day, climbing and jumping and running around that his body wasn’t used to.

“Morning, little brother,” Daruk greeted loudly, eyes crinkling in a grin as he watched Link move. “Ready to get down to cracking rocks?”

Link hummed reluctantly, low in his throat. He needed to keep moving – couldn’t let himself be any more of a disappointment. He snuck a glance down at the road, some way down from where he was, and mentally followed it to its inevitable end.

To the abbey ruins, and the massive glowing eye as big as his head that made his heart race hard enough to hurt. A deafening chirp of alarm as it focused on him.

He felt sick.

 _Not now,_ he signed without looking at anyone, and fumbled for his sword, got up, and paused for a split second, mentally running over the sword drill Mipha had helped him remember two days before.

He took a breath, feeling eyes on him, and took it step by step, slow and deliberate.

The motions felt familiar, almost as if they were bringing his body back into line. His nerves still threatened to spark painfully with each practiced swing. Twice he turned too fast and had to clench his jaw against something like nausea. The three spirit orbs the monks had gifted him hummed loudly in Link’s chest.

He didn’t deserve them. He didn’t deserve the patience of the people with him or the old man waiting for Link to do as he’d asked.

Link completed the set, and without hesitation started it again.

What if he failed? What if he wasn’t ever able to get to that last shrine? Urbosa had been very sharp in her command to flee – how hard would that machine, that guardian hit if he was too slow?

Link tasted bile, and it was only then that he realized his stomach was roiling.

As he completed his third repetition, Mipha stood up, tilting her head up to look at him with gentle understanding that made Link want to look away. She stood beside him and, without a word, started a different set, modeling it slowly enough for him to follow. Link copied her, and this one felt just as familiar.

He swallowed thickly and nodded, trying to convey his gratitude. He ran through it twice more, speeding up with each circuit, and Mipha showed him a third, quiet and patient.

He just needed his hands to stop shaking. If his hands stopped shaking, he’d be steady enough to go.

“We should get going,” Urbosa said as he completed his second cycle of that one, her voice tinged with the lightest censure. “There’s really no time to waste.”

Revali grunted in agreement.

Irrational terror chilled Link’s stomach, crystallizing into spiked horror. He didn’t look at any of them before he stuck his sword in the snow and retreated, everything finally tipping over into the realm of ‘too much.’

In less than a minute, Link had crammed himself into a cave to rub his thighs and scratch his arms and _hide_. The darkness and the small space comforted him, but only a little. Every loud noise made him rub his ear against the cave wall, and he couldn’t make himself process the conversation coming from outside. His ears rang with a distant, tense whine.

What was wrong with him?

Eventually, Mipha came along and sat just outside the little alcove. Her voice was soothing, pitched low and soft, the green of her palm clear as she held her hand out peacefully. It took Link a moment to grudgingly tune into her actual words.

“-like to run your hands over things when you can,” Mipha was telling him with too much patience. “Why don’t you play with the snow for a bit? I think it will help. You always seem to run hot when you’re overstimulated.”

Link made a displeased grunt in his throat, but reached down to run his fingers through the rough snow anyway. The top layer was stiff, packed ice, like it had been there for a long time, melting together and refreezing. He broke it up in his fingers, crushing it under his thick gloves, until it was powdery and loose, dampening his gloves a little.

He scooped up another handful and crushed it against his legs, grinding it down roughly. It felt… nice. Better. He repeated it, rubbing it against his arms where he’d left rough red lines from scratching. It sapped the heat from him, coaxing him back into himself, and he exhaled quietly.

Slowly, laboriously, Link unwound, until he felt like he could breathe again. His fingers were numb, and he was starting to shiver. His nose was running in the icy air, and the tips of his ears were whipped raw. But his skeleton had stopped trying to crawl out of his flesh.

He tipped his head against the cave wall, reached up to tug tiredly at his hair, and after a few minutes of quiet, he looked up at Mipha and signed, _I think I can climb down the mountain now._

He didn’t promise anything else, but Mipha smiled at him anyway, warm and pleased. “That’s great, Link. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

Link nodded, hid his face against the cave wall for a few more minutes, and then stood up, shook himself off, and started to trek down the trail, making his winding way to the gate.

“Oh, finally,” he clearly heard Revali mutter, and then he was taking off and flying down with a flap. Link wondered vaguely why he’d waited in the first place.

Urbosa fell in just to the side of Link, arms crossed and visibly impatient. “You should take the last shrine today,” she said without hesitation, stern eyes on Link. “You’ve taken quite enough time as it is.”

Link shook his head, refusing to look at her. _I can’t. I’m too…_ He gestured, vague and wordless, unable to explain how stretched-thin and shaky he still felt.

“You _can,”_ Urbosa said firmly, and neither Daruk or Mipha disagreed with her.

Link made the mistake of looking at her. There was an edge of desperation to her expression, belying the sternness of her voice.

“Zelda needs you to,” Urbosa added, something shadowed and worried in her eyes.

Link stared at her, heart speeding up unpleasantly again, then nodded. Urbosa nodded back, some of the tension leaking out of her shoulders in unmistakable relief.

The walk down the mountain, around the bokoblin camps, and sneaking past the lynel was stiflingly quiet. Daruk commented on their surroundings a couple times – on the bomb barrels in one of the camps, on the sledgehammer lying abandoned on a cliff ledge, on a little pond with a few fish that would have saved them two trips past the lynel – but when no one moved to answer, he eventually subsided, visibly dissatisfied.

Finally, they reached the ruins, just coming into sight of the largest cluster of half-buried guardians outside of the temple. Thirty feet from the entrance, Link’s legs locked up and refused to move. As soon as he came closer, they were going to pour out of the ruins like spiders. He knew it. He could see it.

Ears twitching with fear, hands clasped to his elbows, Link just stared at the entrance in the distance, unable to unfreeze from his place. When Mipha spoke to him, he couldn’t reply. He couldn’t even hear her.

All he could hear was the whine of the waking machine. The bright single eye staring directly at him. His breath dragged and his blood pounded.

They were coming. They were waiting for him.

Time passed and the sun dipped into the horizon, and suddenly Urbosa was between him and the ruins entrance, expression heavy and the yellow paint on her cheek cast in shadow. He refocused on her, slow and disoriented, and she sighed quietly, expression softening in resignation.

“That’s enough, Link. You did well to try. We’ll return to the cabin,” she said, and the concession sounded like failure and Link was too relieved to care. She turned and walked away, taking the cliff path past the lynel, and he finally, _finally,_ unfroze enough to follow.

The sun had set by the time they reached the old man’s cabin, and Revali was waiting, scowling with impatience and seated at the table. The old man just smiled warmly.

“How did it go?” he asked cheerfully.

Instead of answering, Link sat himself in the corner, curled up, and started twisting one ear in his fingers. His breath was still coming hard.

“He got the two mountain shrines,” Mipha assured the old man. “But he’s struggling with the shrine in the ruins. Must he really go through that?"

“He’ll need it,” the old man said firmly, and Urbosa stormed in front of him and started arguing, low and cool.

Link tuned it out, trying to force his racing heart and crawling skin to settle again. The hand not twisting his ear went to his mouth again, his jaw clenching around his gloved knuckles to force himself to calm as the tension rose. Urbosa was trying to convince the old man to give up the paraglider without the last treasure, he registered dimly.

“If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle,” he heard the old man say calmly, and Urbosa swore loud enough to make a couple birds fly away in a flutter.

Link turned his face into the wall, still curled up, and let that play over again in his head.

_If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle._

_If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle._

_If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle._

Link needed to get into that castle.

* * *

Link spent most of the next day alone, exploring the plateau quietly.

Picking up a rock on a tall boulder revealed a little leaf creature that introduced itself as a Korok, and gave him a little seed that he stored in his Sheikah Slate. By the end of the day he’d found three more, and he was smiling a little, almost having _fun_ looking for them. He found another old sword on in one of the ruins. He even found some arrows, a chest of fire arrows and one of ice and a few bundles that he snuck out of bokoblin camps while they were preoccupied.

He roasted some mushrooms for a noontime meal and then shot down another boar, too, cleaning and butchering it with just a little more finesse than last time. Storing it was easy, and Mipha had assured him it would stay good. Link hoped she was right; it would be nice to have it on hand.

He jumped into the lake – encountering another Korok when he did – and then scrubbed himself roughly off, swam to shore, and pulled himself out.

Then he grabbed his Sheikah Slate, warped back to the Owa Daim shrine, and dropped carefully from ledge to ledge back down to where he could run across the rough tree bridge and to the cabin.

The others were still there. He relaxed a little, relieved, and waved. Daruk waved back.

“Everything go well, little brother?” Daruk asked, worry so well disguised that Link almost missed it. Link nodded and held out his new stock of arrows for Daruk to see. Daruk chuckled. “Pretty good! Get some food for yourself too?”

Link nodded again, and didn’t startle when Urbosa came up beside him, looking over his shoulder.

“Not bad for a day’s work,” she allowed, and then, surprising no one, “Will you be ready to tackle the shrine tomorrow?”

Link bit his cheek, assessed himself the best his could, and then shook his head decisively. He felt more stable than he had the day before, the rhythmic routine of the day’s work helping to steady him, but underneath that he still felt wobbly and nervous. He knew that he would freeze up again if he went too close to the ruins.

 _I’m going to hunt monsters tomorrow,_ he said instead, meeting her eyes evenly. _I need the practice._

Urbosa’s lips thinned, but she didn’t argue. Instead she nodded. “Take one of us with you. You’re not yourself.”

Link didn’t miss that if he _had_ been himself, it would have been fine. Was he good at hunting monsters, before? Was he _skilled_ with the sword that felt so familiar in his hand?

He hesitated, and then checked quickly, _I did use a sword, didn’t I?_

It was a moment before Urbosa answered, and he glanced at her.

“Yes,” she said at last, voice soft. “You did. You had a great array of training, but you preferred your sword.”

Link reached up a little towards his sheath, almost able to feel the weight of a different sword entirely – but then the memory was gone, and he just nodded, looking away again.

He made a meal for himself. He went to sleep in the old man’s cabin. He woke up.

“I’m coming with you to keep your foolish self from dying,” Revali told Link curtly, and refused to take no for an answer. Link almost laughed, surprised, but just nodded, heading off to skirt around the lynel and make his way to the forest; he’d seen two bokoblin camps there previously, and he wanted to try and clear them out.

He thought he could do it, today. If he tried hard enough.

With the first one, he was careful; he crept into one of the trees nearby, took careful aim, and shot his precious ice arrows at each of the four attendant bokoblins, encasing them in a shell that would take precious minutes to break. Then he took his sword, marched in, and shattered them.

The bow felt nearly as familiar as the sword did, but Revali still corrected his grip and his sightline a little, making sure he aimed true, and stood back to watch, narrow-eyed, when Link finally went in.

When Link returned, shoulder aching where one boko club had caught it, Revali gave him a curt nod. “Is that enough to sate your apparent bloodlust for the day?” he asked dryly.

Heart racing with adrenaline, Link shook his head and held out the stock of arrows he’d managed to gather from the camp. Between that and the fangs and horns, he didn’t regret his raid at all, and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Revali sighed.

“Goddess save us all,” he muttered, and then followed Link as he picked his way over to the second monster camp.

This one was better watched and a little more difficult; carefully aimed arrows took out each of the standing sentries one by one, leaving them to collapse where they stood, gurgles nearly inaudible to anyone standing too far away.

Halfway through the raid, Link’s rusty sword finally gave out, and he had to duck, roll, and grab a weapon at random from his slate, swinging the heavy hammer at the monsters before they could land more than a couple more blows.

It was only after the dust settled that Link became aware of Revali’s loud swearing. He turned, panting and confused, and Revali was storming towards him, beak clicking furiously, and obviously checking Link for injuries, from the way he snarled at Link’s hurt shoulder. The green patch covering his shoulder feathers flexed and flashed.

“Of all the reckless, pointless, _hot-headed and moronic-”_ the Rito was growling, pacing around Link in tight circles before stomping to a halt in front of him. “Why on Earth didn’t you snipe the rest with all those arrows you were so keen on?”

Link almost took a step back, confused. _I need to practice?_ he suggested uncertainly. Revali stared at him, and Link did take a step back this time, unsure. _I’m supposed to fight, aren’t I?_

That was what all of this seemed to be leading up to. That was what felt right.

That was what everyone seemed to expect of him.

For a long, tense moment, Revali stared at him, then scoffed and turned away. “Well, you certainly seem eager enough,” he bit out.

The conversation was apparently ended, since Revali had oriented himself to keep from seeing Link’s reply. Link scowled at his back, then turned and walked away, scanning the trees for any remaining patrols and listening to the birds and squirrels rustle in the trees.

He slid into a dip in the forest and sullenly knelt down, picking some of the mushrooms that were growing around the edges. Each went into his slate for later, giving him a good stock of them, and slowly the tension eased out of his shoulders even as his fingers started to tremble.

Revali was maybe right. It would have been safer to snipe the last bokoblins rather than going in just for practice, and it wouldn’t do to get into bad habits. But Urbosa had said he used a sword-

Something rumbled. Link whipped around. His heart skipped a beat.

A towering creature of stone pulled itself from the ground with a rattle like a landslide, shook the dust off itself. It had no eyes, but it had two massive arms like clubs, heavy and intimidating.

Time seemed to slow down as Link’s heartbeat sped up. The stone creature dragged itself around to face him, and raised one arm. In response, Link threw himself to the side, reached for a boko spear he hadn’t yet put away, and threw it at the creature. It shattered against its body without any apparent effect, and it didn’t miss a beat as it threw its arm at him.

Link rolled away, and it just barely missed him, sending flecks of gravel flying, cutting into his face and arms.

He could almost hear the exact moment Revali turned and noticed what was happening from the sheer volume of the Rito’s shout. “GODDESS-FUCKING PRIDE OF A BOKOBLIN MOTHER-”

Blood roaring in his ears, Link kicked himself upright and grabbed for his bow, shooting at the stone beast again. Like the spear, the arrow shattered ineffectually against the rock face.

Another arm came flying towards Link. Time slowed, and Link twisted away, heart racing so hard his chest ached.

“The ore node!” he heard Revali screaming, harsh with panic Link hadn’t yet heard from him. “You need to hit the damn _ore node, Link!”_

 _What ore node?_ Link wanted to scream back, but he didn’t have time to find Revali _and_ a line of sight _and-_

When he turned back, the rock beast was slumped on the ground, and Link saw it: a black, jagged protrusion on its back, always on the side facing away from Link.

Instantly, Link turned, scampered away, and, as the beast pulled a new arm from the ground and slumped down for a second, he climbed a tree as quickly as he could, thankful for the thick gloves that protected his hands.

Then, safely among the branches, he took careful aim at the black ore chunk, and fired. The arrow struck true, and the creature, arm freshly retrieved, slumped back down and did not get up for several seconds.

Link allowed himself a feral grin, fired again, and wasted no time in scampering back down and beelining straight towards the monster. He managed to clamber up onto it just as it stood up again, great and swaying, and Link grinned, eyes glittering and wild.

Then grabbed the hammer off his back, and slammed it down onto the ore. Then he did it again. The rock monster turned, great and swaying, and Link held on grimly until it steadied, and then struck again with a shout.

Revali was screeching, harsh, grating birdlike screams of outrage and indignation.

On the next blow, the monster broke apart, and Link tumbled to the ground, panting and laughing to himself, scraped up from the rocks despite his clothing and already shaking from the rush.

The next thing he knew, Revali was swooping down next to him, eyes wide with panic and anger, and Link turned over and grinned up at him, chest shaking with uncontrollable giggles.

“Oh, you think this is _funny_ you, you-” the Rito hissed out, and then apparently became lost for words, gesticulating meaninglessly. Link tipped his head back and laughed harder, feeling an ache set into his muscles the longer he laid there, and finally, Revali gave a put-upon sigh. “Oh, laugh it up, you insolent fool. Goddess above, I let you out of my sight for _two seconds…”_

Link grinned for a while longer, and then eventually, finally, rolled over and pushed himself to his knees, then started to gather up the shattered ore chunks that made up the stone creature’s remains- chunks of amber, ruby, opal…

He didn’t ask why Revali didn’t step in, and Revali didn’t explain.

Once he was done with that, stumbling to his feet, Revali jerked his head in the direction of the cabin, and Link obediently ambled after him, tucking his Sheikah Slate back at his side, buzzing with pleasure.

By the time they were past the lynel, though, the high was starting to wear off, and Link’s limbs were getting heavier with each step. He trudged onward towards the cabin, ignoring Revali’s grumbles, and smiled a little as Mipha got up from beside the fire and hurried towards them. Daruk waved. Link nodded back vaguely and stifled a yawn.

His hands were shaking, and he didn’t think he had much longer before his knees gave out. He was thankful for the Sheikah Slate that stored his items; it meant he didn’t have to carry their weight.

“What happened?” Mipha was asking anxiously, hovering beside Link and gaze shifting worriedly between him and Revali. “He’s all scratched up, is that from the bokoblin?”

Revali tossed his head, scoffing loudly.

“As if,” he bit out, glowering at Mipha, who set her jaw and glowered right back. Revali softened a little, reluctantly. “No- I’m afraid I forgot about the talus in that forest, and lost sight of Link for just a minute. He ran right into it.”

Mipha gasped, hands flying up to her mouth, and spun towards Link. “Goodness, Link, are you-”

Link opened his Sheikah Slate, let an opal drop into his hand, and offered it to her with a small, satisfied smile. Her eyes went wide, staring from him to the opal and back to him.

Then she smiled, gestured it gently back towards him, and asked, “I take it you were able to handle it, then?”

Link put the opal away and nodded, then stifled another yawn and sat down hard, curling up against the log. He wondered vaguely where the old man was.

“He appeared to injure his shoulder, but it wasn’t severe,” Revali continued, audibly ruffled. “It shouldn’t hold him up at all. All things considered, he dealt with it quite handily.”

“Hey, little brother,” Daruk said suddenly, voice surprisingly soft and only a foot from Link’s face. Link’s ear twitched, and he reluctantly pried his eyes open to send a questioning look up at Daruk. He was starting to shiver with cold, but Daruk just gave him a small grin. “Sounds like you did a great job out there. Revali says the forest’s all clear.”

Link gave him a small, dazed grin in return, nodding vaguely. He hadn’t looked closely, but that had seemed to be the case, and he’d definitely gotten both of the camps. And the talus.

Daruk chuckled softly. “Can you sit up for me, little bro? Just need you to do one or two things for me before you crash.”

Link grunted, but sat up obediently, rubbing at his face. _What?_

“Take out your Sheikah Slate and open it up,” Daruk coached, and Link obeyed. “Now pick out something easy to eat, maybe something you can just roast and eat, and a stamina elixir.”

Link obeyed, sticking a couple of mushrooms on a spare boko spear and putting them by the fire, then flopped back. Then, when Daruk cleared his throat meaningfully, Link sighed, sat back up, and took out a stamina elixir.

“Great,” Daruk said warmly. “Drink up, little bro, it’ll keep you from being so sore in the morning.”

Link sighed, but that sounded like a good thing, so he chugged it back anyway, put the bottle away, and gave Daruk a faintly sullen look that made the Goron laugh.

“You gotta give your little Hylian belly some fuel before you fall asleep after all that,” Daruk reminded him, eyes glittering. “Trust me, you’ll thank me for this tomorrow. Think you can clean yourself up in the pond while you wait?”

Link sighed again, then got up and stumbled over to the pond, pulling off his gloves and shakily scrubbing at the scratches on his face and ankles.

Ten minutes later, Mipha called him back, and he stumbled over. He sat down, barely able to keep his eyes open, and ate the mushrooms without tasting them. Someone murmured to him, low and firm – he thought maybe Urbosa – and he followed them blindly into the cabin, fell onto the bed, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

He thought he liked his friends. He’d chosen well, before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot that Link isn't allowing himself to know. As King Rhoam said, his mental state is pretty fragile right now.
> 
> He's doing the best he can.


	4. Chapter 4

When he woke up the next morning, Mipha was waiting for him, sitting primly in a chair and idling quietly. She smiled at him when she saw him sitting up, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Urbosa scouted out a route to the ruins shrine that doesn’t pass any guardians,” she said, voice pitched low as if to maintain the quiet. “I can take you through. Are you ready to try?”

Link didn’t feel ready. He was sore from his activity the day before, his whole body aching, especially where his shoulder was bruised from the boko clubs, throbbing faintly. He still felt thin and tired, harshly vulnerable. The thought of the guardians threatened to make him freeze.

But Mipha wouldn’t lie to him, and he didn’t want to go close to them, but he thought, today, he _could._ If he needed to.

And he _did_ need to, if he wanted to get off this plateau.

He set his jaw and nodded, turning and sliding off the bed. It wasn’t quite enough to miss Mipha’s look of relief.

The two of them took their time while the rest stayed behind, Urbosa glowering into the fire with her arms crossed and Daruk waving as they left. Link swallowed, focusing all of his attention on Mipha’s back as she led the way.

Past the thin forest. Past the little bokoblin camp and the lynel. Over the crumbling walls and on to the ruins that crawled with the corpses of long-dead machines, and a few that were- that were-

Link turned his head away, keeping the green soul-paint on Mipha’s hand just in his line of sight, and watched the horizon as he followed her blindly.

To the castle, he repeated to himself. He just needed to go to the castle.

Mipha came to a stop, and he risked a look at her. Her expression was dim and sad, but she gave him a small smile anyway.

“The shrine is just on the other side of this wall,” she said quietly. “It’s safe in there; the doorway is blocked off, and there are no guardians in that room. I promise.”

Link looked at her, and then nodded stiffly. He could just see the top of the shrine over the wall, at least. He could probably go right in.

He had to.

 _Thank you,_ he signed, and then he reached up, dug his fingers in, and pulled himself up the wall.

“You’re welcome,” he heard from behind him, and when he glanced over his shoulder, Mipha had sat down, cross-legged and patient, waiting for him.

* * *

After King Rhoam dissolved into the air, nothing but a spirit from the beginning, Link sat in the window of the temple, legs dangling, for long enough that his friends sent Revali up to check on him.

Unexpectedly, Revali just sat beside him for a while, glowering at the ground, until Link himself finally turned to look at him. When Revali looked back, brow arching, Link asked abruptly, _Why don’t I have any soulmarks?_

Revali let out a dry huff, looking away and then, forcefully, back at him, expression dry. “That’s what you’re worried about in all this?”

Link blinked at him, feeling numb. There was a lot that he was worried about, but that had been on his mind, and it was all he could think to ask, knowing that his friends had been aware all along.

He felt like he already knew half of it, on some level, and yet at the same time, none of it felt familiar at all. It felt _unreal._

But it was true. He knew it was true.

When Link didn’t answer, Revali gave a put-upon sigh.

“I don’t know,” he said plainly. “You’ve always been painted, but they faded over time while you were asleep. It might have to do with your power, or your magic. We have no idea.” He scoffed. “Knowing you, you’ll be painted again soon enough.”

 _Painted?_ Link asked. The term resonated warmly, but he couldn’t bring the meaning to mind.

“…Someone who leaves a mark on nearly everyone they meet, and is marked in return,” Revali explained, disinterested tone belied by his words. “I’ve never known you to touch someone without leaving at least a faint impression.”

Link’s mouth opened a little, surprised, and he looked down at his hands as if a mark would suddenly manifest.

And then he realized one had, so slight as to be easy to overlook – but one of his hands was a shade or two more yellow than the other, on the palm and fingers of the hand with the barely-visible triangle mark. He held it out to Revali, who glanced down and then snorted.

“It figures,” was all he said, and then, “King Rhoam is gone, then?”

Link nodded. _You knew he was a spirit?_ he asked.

Revali snorted again, nodding once. Then, uncharacteristically, he hesitated.

“Link,” he said slowly. “You do realize…”

He looked up to meet Link’s eyes intensely, gaze boring into him, and Link tucked his hands against himself, suddenly jittery. His fingers skimmed over the scar-roughened skin of his forearms. Revali exhaled, something like pity twisting through his expression.

“Never mind,” he said dismissively, and leapt off to swoop through the air back to the ground.

Link lingered for a few moments, sick and tense, and then braced himself, grabbed the paraglider, and followed him down back to Oman Au’s shrine.

It was a strain on his arms, he decided with a wince, stumbling a little on landing, but nothing he couldn’t get used to. He tucked it under one arm, glancing down the sheer cliffsides of the plateau, and then back up to each of the others, finally settling on Urbosa.

 _Do you know the way?_ Link asked her – he thought he would find it eventually, especially with the help of his Sheikah Slate’s map, but the world looked vast and he was as likely as not to get lost on the way.

Urbosa deflated a little, giving him a small, grateful smile, and nodded down the cliff beside them. “That’s the start of the road there – it used to go through the wall and up onto the plateau, but it’s blocked up now. It should lead us through an old outpost, then through the mountains and to Dueling Peaks stable. The drop isn’t bad, as long as you make good use of that paraglider.”

Link nodded, and glanced at Mipha next. _I’ll meet you at the bottom?_ he offered, trusting that they had a way to get down. She gave him a small smile, eyes shadowed, and nodded, and Link turned and leapt off the cliff, bracing against the wind to steer himself down.

The motions felt familiar. He thought this, too, was something his body had done before.

At the bottom were… well.

There were more ruins.

Link considered his stock of weapons, how quickly they broke, and the large moblins he could see milling about in the distance, and steeled himself to start exploring the ruins.

They were, of course, obviously wrecked, so long ago now that much of what must have been there had simply crumbled into a miserable sort of wood-debris carpet. Here and there a mostly-intact piece of furniture still remained – a desk, a bookshelf, a weapon stand – but most of it was in crumbles.

It felt… somehow worse, knowing that he had been directly involved in the calamity. That he had tried and failed to stop it. That that had very nearly been the death of him.

That there were people who had stood with him to try and stop it, who he might never know again.

Link dug up two rusty broadswords and an old claymore, each of which he tucked away, before the others met up with him again. Gratifyingly, each of them seemed to instantly understand what he was doing, and spread out to silently help in his search. For nearly an hour, the only sounds were of soft calls as one of them uncovered a usable weapon, and they only stopped when Link’s Sheikah Slate refused to accept any more.

The mood was heavy as they moved on, and some part of Link was grateful. He wasn’t alone in his suffocating and implacable grief for a kingdom he could no longer remember.

He wondered which part of Hyrule he had grown up in.

The quiet carried them nearly to sunset, when Link finished sneaking past the large moblins pacing the path and almost fell right on top of another shrine.

He hesitated. Urbosa sighed, and then waved him in.

“Go,” she murmured, feigning disinterest. “It’ll help you regain your strength.”

Link glanced at Mipha, who nodded encouragingly at him, and went inside. He didn’t regret it; the soldier’s claymore he found inside was by far the best weapon he’d picked up so far, intact and rust-free and well-balanced. And the pulse of magic Bosh Kala left thrumming in his chest was fast becoming a familiar sensation.

When he came back out, the others were talking about him.

“We just don’t know much,” Daruk said plainly, oblivious to Link’s return to the shrine entrance. “We didn’t exactly chat about his early life during the calamity, you know?”

Urbosa huffed quietly. “There must be someone with some idea. Mipha- do you at least know how long he journeyed between obtaining the sword and becoming Zelda’s guard? It can’t have been too long.”

Mipha shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. We met when he was four, but I didn’t see him again until he was, I believe, fifteen. Anything could have happened during that time.”

Revali scoffed. “Like what, exactly? He stopped wetting the bed? Started to fluff his feathers like a fledgling?”

“Hylians grow up faster than even Rito, Revali,” Mipha reprimanded softly. “And Link faster than most. As Daruk said, we simply don’t know.”

Link clicked his tongue quietly, but the others all still jumped when he did, Mipha and Daruk looking guilty and Urbosa and Revali unrepentant. He stepped out of the shrine entrance, considered them for a moment, and asked, _Trying to decide how long these will take?_ And he tapped the shrine key with one finger.

Urbosa nodded. “We’re unsure how many trials you’ll need to complete. Each of us had three, to master our divine beasts and prove our worth. But it looks like you may have as many as two or three dozen.”

Link shrugged, trying to shake off the familiar hot burn of shame. They knew he wouldn’t be of any help. _We should move on. Do you think we’ll reach the stable today?_

“If we hurry,” Urbosa said firmly, and Link nodded, then started walking. The others fell in around him.

Much of the road was densely forested, Link noticed, looking back and forth to examine his surroundings. There were different kinds of mushrooms at the bases, Stamellas and ironshrooms and Hylian mushrooms, and he immediately itched to gather them; it would be a pity to let them go to waste.

And _oh-_ he recognized that flower. With a small, delighted smile, he broke off the path and headed towards it, reached for the petals, and watched it disappear under his fingers and pop up a few yards away.

“What the…” he heard Revali mutter behind him. He tuned the Rito out and picked a few mushrooms, then went for the next flower and held back a grin as it disappeared and popped up again a few more yards away.

Urbosa was grumbling back at the path, but Mipha was already soothing her. Link had a few minutes.

He chased the flower until it popped up white, and when it disappeared and up popped a Korok, laughing in childish glee. He grinned back, clapping three times in an imitation of the little creature’s laugh, and accepted the offered seed as his due.

When he made his way back down to the road, Urbosa was raising an eyebrow at him. “Satisfied?”

Link smiled guiltily and nodded, holding out the Korok seed. Mipha inhaled sharply.

“That… is quite a magical seed, Link,” she said carefully.

Link cocked his head. _Korok seed,_ he agreed, taking his best guess at the spelling. He could almost taste the magic on it, and it tingled slightly in the palm of his hand. He put it away in his slate, and then looked back up to Urbosa’s faintly startled expression.

“I thought those were mythical,” she said. Link blinked at her.

 _I’ve gotten seven,_ he disagreed, confused. _Koroks are pretty friendly, and the puzzles they set up are fun. I’m sure I’ll find a use for the seeds._ They certainly contained enough magic.

“They do say Koroks are quite fond of jokes and puzzles,” Revali offered, arms crossed and brows arching high on his face.

Daruk laughed, loud and booming enough to make them startle again, and grinned down at them. “Looks like Link’s made a couple friends, that’s all. No big deal.”

The others seemed to take that at face value, and finally moved on.

Link didn’t follow the road as closely as the others did; he kept getting distracted by things he recognized off the path, pausing to gather them up and put them away. He wasn’t sure how he recognized them, but he knew, looking at them – that one was good for energy boosts, that one would give him a temporary strength boost, that one could help him heal…

Urbosa never strayed off the path, gaze steely and impatient, and Link winced a little under her attention. But he didn’t stop gathering – crickets, mushrooms, beetles, each of them would be useful down the road.

Then he saw smoke and froze, stumbling a little on suddenly unsteady legs. Mipha saw his expression and softened.

“Why don’t you go see if there’s someone there?” she suggested gently.

Link didn’t waste another moment weaving rapidly through the trees towards the smoke signal, even as Urbosa swore quietly behind him.

It was only a few moments before he found his way to a small makeshift camp, eyes wide. He broke through the tree line already looking around, and met the man’s eyes just as he relaxed, hand slipping away from the axe he’d stuck into a nearby stump.

Link smiled, feeling his relief like a rush that went straight to his head, and signed, _It’s good to see another person._

The man’s face wrinkled in sympathy, but he still sounded flippant as he said, “Don’t speak that, sorry.”

Link barely had time to deflate before Mipha was crouching beside him, saying quietly, “There’s a communication feature on your Sheikah Slate. It should be with the runes.”

Link brightened up again immediately, picking it up and flicking through it while Mipha settled beside him, watching over his shoulder.

The man’s lips pursed. “Sheikah tech?” he asked, audibly apprehensive. Link nodded without looking up, and then found the rune Mipha had mentioned, marked with a large sound icon.

Opening it up revealed an array of categories of pre-set phrases, plus a keyboard option, and Link felt a beaming smile stretch out across his face. He tapped through for a moment, picked one, and held his breath.

_“Hello, my name is Link.”_

Link went still. The voice was… _indistinguishable_ from the one that had spoken to him on the tower, from the castle. So it must be Zelda.

Had Zelda recorded these lines for him?

Both the man’s eyebrows rose. “Handy. I’m Giro. Haven’t seen you around here before.”

Link flipped through the pages of pre-set dialogue for a moment before promising himself he’d look through them better soon, and looked up with a small smile and a shrug. It was still almost dizzying to come across another person.

Giro snorted softly.

“I’m a merchant,” he said without further preamble, patting his bag proudly. “You a warrior? That’s a fine array of weapons you’ve got on your back.”

Link nodded. It was close enough. Giro hummed.

“Well, feel free to rest here for a bit,” he said, leaning back a little. “I’m here most days, it’s a good touchpoint for people passing through. It’ll be getting dark soon, too, so if you want to spend the night, I won’t stop you.”

Link started a little, glancing up at the sky and then at Mipha, who smiled at him sympathetically.

“You may want to get going,” she said. “But I can talk to Urbosa if you’d rather stay the night here.”

Link looked down at the Sheikah Slate. Zelda had set that rune up for him. It must have taken- hours. Days, weeks.

He shook his head, but was unwilling to leave so soon after he’d found company. He flicked rapidly through the (dozens!) of options available to him until he found, _“Do you know any interesting stories about the area?”_

Giro let out a startled laugh. “Sure, let me just whip one out for ya. I don’t deal in stories, boy, I deal in goods. You want stories, you go to the stable. All that’s around here are monster camps and half a forest. Stories…” He shook his head.

Link suppressed a put-upon sigh of his own, shoulders deflating in disappointment. Giro sighed.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Fine, let me tell you a myth my old man liked about how the Dueling Peaks split from one mountain into two…”

Link brightened immediately, and listened attentively as Giro started to recite the tale – mostly without inflection, a little stuttered and disjointed, but fascinating in its own right. Link’s attention seemed to give Giro confidence, and the story had smoothed out by the time he wrapped up.

Mipha hummed along, patient and amused, and when Giro finished, she was smiling alongside Link – mostly at him, but Link dismissed that before he contemplated it too closely.

 _“Thank you,”_ he tapped out with delight, earning a snort and a sheepish shrug in return. _“Do you need help?”_

“Nah,” Giro dismissed, stretching a little. “I’m set for the night, frankly. You need to worry about getting settled yourself, it’s damn late.”

Link glanced up, startled, and then stood and waved at Giro, who shrugged, looking amused but not annoyed. “Yeah, that’s kinda what I thought. Good luck, kid, you’ll need to hurry if you want to be there by nightfall.”

Link nodded, and then took off weaving back through the forest to where the others were still waiting on the back, sitting under a couple of trees now. _Sorry,_ he apologized, a little ashamed already under Urbosa’s annoyed scrutiny.

Urbosa made an irate noise in her chest. “Let’s go,” she said meaningfully, rising and walking away.

Link paid for his distraction soon enough; almost as soon as the sun set, skeletal bokoblins were crawling out of the ground, rattling and hissing, and his sword was already cracking by the time he’d reached the valley after three rounds of this.

“This way,” Revali snapped, jerking his head towards a trail of rocks that would let Link cross the river and avoid a bokoblin camp. “There’s another further down, you shouldn’t have to face much more than this.”

Link nodded his acknowledgement, kicked the last bokoblin skull into the river, and jumped across, leaving Mipha and Daruk to watch his back.

There was another Korok’s flower on the first stone, and he couldn’t resist reaching out to touch it. Fortunately for him, it reappeared on the next stone down, so it would be easy enough to get along the way. Daruk belly-laughed, an infectious thing that made Link grin, and it only took a few minutes to reach the other side and grasp the last flower.

 _“Ya-ha-ha!”_ the Korok chortled, and Link clapped in echo, weary but pleased.

A soft snort drew his attention to Urbosa, but when he looked at her, her expression was smooth.

“Not much further,” Urbosa promised, narrow eyes focused down the river. “An hour, maybe an hour and a half’s hike.”

Link nodded, keeping a cautious eye on the riverbanks as he made his brisk way down. There wasn’t much to gather on the bare stone, though he wished he had time to catch some of the fish skipping in the river. But no – if he lingered too long, more stalkoblins were likely to come crawling out of the earth, and he could already feel himself lagging. Even the glowing shrine wasn’t quite enough to distract him.

“You’ve got a few stamina elixirs, don’t you, little brother?” Daruk reminded him when he noticed Link starting to stumble, and Link nodded absently, grabbed one, and swallowed it down in a few gulps.

Tasted awful, but it did make him perk up a little.

 _How much further?_ he asked, stifling a yawn. Urbosa glanced back at him and stifled a snort.

“Maybe forty minutes,” she said briskly, nodding up ahead. “The second river crossing should be coming up. Brace yourself, it’ll be a bit of a swim.”

Link nodded absently, and followed Mipha blindly when she turned onto the river, slipping inside and leading the way to a rock set a few yards into the fast moving stream. She glanced back at him, making sure he was following, and then swam to the next as Link grimaced and jumped in.

Link’s aching muscles protested a little, but he wearily ignored them, pushing through the water. The moon was rising high in the sky now; they should hurry.

He was only just pulling himself onto shore when he heard panicked cries in the distance, and before he’d consciously registered them, he was already surging to his feet, stumbling and wavering for balance.

Then he was running, drawing his sword as he zeroed in on the commotion.

Just outside the valley, someone was running at a slightly-faster-than-normal pace, surrounded by an alarmingly large crowd of stalkoblins, and burdened by the biggest backpack Link could imagine. The guy didn’t even have a _weapon._

Then, as if on cue, the man tripped. A terrified shriek reached Link’s ears.

Dripping wet and swearing internally, Link rushed in, slamming his sword into the first stalkoblin hard enough that both shattered into pieces. Undeterred, he grabbed its wriggling arm off the ground, kicked its head away, and went after the rest.

The man on the ground scrambled back, gasping quietly, and Link ignored him except to put himself between the man and the remaining stalkoblins. They were fragile, fortunately, much more so than their flesh-and-bone counterparts, and by the time the arm he was holding broke, they were in pieces.

He understood now why his friends had been so surprised to see him shy away from combat; his blood sang, his body moving through the monsters like he was born for battle, so naturally he hardly even needed to think.

“Well done, little brother,” Daruk murmured, sounding unexpectedly proud. Link exhaled, rubbed a tired hand across his face, and turned to offer a hand to the man still stuck on his back like a turtle.

The man accepted, eyes wide. “That was _amazing,”_ he breathed, sounding genuinely star-struck. Link blinked at him, surprised, and the man grinned toothily back. “You saved my life! And I don’t think I’ve even seen you around before.”

Both of them let go. Almost in unison, then, they glanced down to where their hands had clasped, and found their hands marked – Link’s in a transparent pink, and the other man’s in an opaque spring green.

The man beamed. “Oho! But I suppose I’ll be seeing you a lot in the future, eh?”

This man was going to be important to Link. And Link would be important to him too.

Link _meant something._

Feeling almost dizzy with delight, Link beamed back, laughing quietly. As if nothing had happened, the man brushed himself off, readjusted his backpack, and kept walking, inviting Link along with a warm grin and a wave. Giving Mipha a pleased look and receiving an amused smile in return, Link followed.

“My name’s Beedle, but you can call me- well, Beedle is just fine,” the man chattered. “You came just in time, thank you, thank you- it’s risky times to be traveling, I know, but it’s very important for merchants to get around! I mostly sell valuable creatures and adventuring supplies. I’m no good with a sword like you, though – what’s your name?”

Beedle sure liked to talk.

 _Link,_ Link spelled out tentatively, wondering if maybe-

“Link!” Beedle echoed, to Link’s surprise. A smile broke out over Link’s face, which faded a little as Beedle’s turned apologetic. “I only know enough sign for transactions, I’m afraid. Sorry!”

Link deflated, shrugging his concession. He nodded down the road, and Beedle grinned again.

“We’re almost at the stable!” he agreed cheerfully. “You should be able to change into dry clothes then! Unless you want to stop and do it sooner?”

Link looked down at himself, dripping wet, and his dismay must have shown on his face because Beedle made a loud, sympathetic sound.

“I heard you can get clothes in Kakariko,” he said consolingly. “You should go and pick up an extra set soon.”

Link sighed, reaching up to rub at his face, and nodded. Then he stifled a yawn, exhaustion redoubling as the adrenaline from the fight faded away, and he shot Urbosa a questioning look. She snorted softly.

“Maybe fifteen minutes down the road,” she told him. “You should be able to rest there for the night.” She hesitated for a second, unreadable eyes lingering on him, and then added, “I’m not a fan of stables, myself – I’ll camp.”

The others made various sounds of agreement, and Link nodded absently, yawning again under one hand as they split away, shoving down his anxiety. The starry sky glittered overhead, the moon rising higher by the minute.

Beedle made chattering, one-sided conversation the whole way there while Link watched the road, keeping an eye out for any more monsters. He could still feel his hand tingling, so faintly he wasn’t sure whether or not it was his imagination.

The stable, Link learned with a lightheaded sort of stunned relief, was full of people.

There was a man sitting cross-legged outside, gazing peacefully at the moon. Someone with her feet in the pond, kicking gently and ignoring the glowing shrine entirely. Two kids outside, cooing at the horses, and one woman attending to a cooking pot, and a man waving them over, grinning in welcome-

There were _people._

At his expression, Beedle clucked in sympathy again. “It can get pretty isolating out there,” he said agreeably. “I think it’s twenty rupees for a bed and ten for a meal.”

He was glancing down at Link’s ankles, clearly trying to find a polite way to ask if Link had enough. Which Link absolutely did _not,_ so that was fair.

Link clicked his tongue and groaned, frustrated and verging on overwhelmed after the long day, and Beedle hemmed and hawed for a moment, then asked, “Got anything to sell me?”

Link brightened, flicked through his inventory, and tapped on the amber to release one from the Sheikah Slate’s storage. It tumbled out of the back like magic, and Link picked it up and showed it to Beedle with a desperate sort of hope.

Beedle whistled, going from sympathetic to genuinely impressed. “How’s that work?”

Link rubbed at his face, considered, and then tapped away. It took Link a few minutes to find it, something he’d spotted earlier in ‘introductions’. _“The Sheikah Slate has a large storage capacity. We’re still figuring out how it works, but if you know how to use it, it can hold almost anything.”_

Zelda’s pleasure was audible in the explanation; it made something ache in the back of his mind.

“Amazing!” Beedle laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “How many of those you have to sell? Just the one? I can give you thirty rupees just for that.”

Link shook his head, and fiddled with the slate for a moment until it said out loud, simple and clear in Zelda’s voice, _“Amber. Eleven.”_

“Wowee!” Beedle exclaimed, with an almost comical look of surprise that made Link laugh. “Don’t think I have three hundred thirty rupees on me, but I can buy five off you.”

Link beamed at him tiredly, signing a quick _thank you_ before tapping to release four more chunks of amber from the slate’s storage. He bent down to scoop them up and then offered them to Beedle, the gems glittering in the palm of his hand.

Beedle took them, tucked them away, and fiddled with his backpack for a minute before making a noise of triumph and giving Link three sparkling purple rupees.

Link signed _thank you_ a couple more times, relieved, until Beedle was laughing, shaking his head.

“It’s the least I can do!” he said cheerfully. “And this is actually part of my job. Can’t sell merchandise if you don’t have any, you know! And it’s dangerous to go off the beaten path these days. Where did you get all this? Death mountain?”

Link shook his head and tapped around for a minute, frowning. He wished Mipha were still here to help him, but eventually he figured out how to queue up a few phrases to run one after another. _“Great Plateau. Talus.”_

Beedle shrieked. Link winced and rubbed his ear. “You killed a _talus?”_

Several of the other people at the stable looked over. Still tugging ruefully on the tip of his ear, Link nodded.

_“What were you even doing near a talus?”_

Link tapped away; it was getting easier to use the communication rune, but he missed sign already. _“Hunting. Bokoblins.”_

Beedle flailed for a few more moments, and Link watching him, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, starting to tug impatiently on his hair. Finally, then, Beedle just shook his head vigorously. “You, my friend, are crazy. I look forward to seeing you around!”

Link smiled vaguely, then tipped his head towards the stable. Beedle thankfully took the hint, and the stablemaster at the front waved them through, stifling a yawn of his own.

“Heyo, Beedle,” he greeted warmly when they came through. “And you’re a new face! New traveler? You look young enough.”

Link nodded, rubbing at his face, and Beedle jumped to help. “This is Link! Doesn’t talk, but he’s damn handy with a sword. He gave me a hand right about twenty minutes out from here.”

The man’s eyebrows rose. “Well! It’s always good to have a new swordsman running around. The two of you checking in? There’s a little stew left over if you’re hungry.”

Link yawned and nodded, handing over one of the purple rupees Beedle had given him earlier. He got a red one in return and tucked it away, standing back as Beedle paid for his as well.

 _Thank you,_ he signed, and was surprised to get a small smile in return.

Twenty minutes later, his bowl was empty and he was fast asleep, still in his wet clothes; even the ache of his overstrained muscles wasn’t enough to keep him awake one minute longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I had to do some last-minute revision of this chapter because I only hit the meat of the Champion's Ballad DLC the night before last, and I hate looking up spoilers.
> 
> On that note, something I've been meaning to mention for a couple of weeks: I'll be doing my best, but this fic isn't going to be 100% Age of Calamity compliant. I've only played the demo and won't get the full game 'til Christmas, and some of the canon I just plain don't gel with. (Pre-Calamity Zelda does not fight in this household.) I hope you all enjoy it anyway!


	5. Chapter 5

Link was already fidgeting with his sleeves and scratching at his arms by the time he met his friends on the road again. Urbosa took one look at him and sighed.

“You’re waiting a day,” she said flatly.

Link reached up, pulled on his hair, and gave her a pleading look.

He didn’t want to do this either. But his skin was crawling again, it was so far to go before they hit Kakariko, they’d have to hurry instead of doing anything on the way if they didn’t want to get there terribly late and just the _idea_ made Link anxious, how strictly he’d need to budget time, how many supplies he’d need to leave behind-

And Link’s clothes had dried stiff on his body, his skin was crawling and his muscles ached, his ears twitching with overstimulation, and Beedle had set out again before Link had woken up and he was _frustrated._

“Just give him this, Urbosa,” Mipha said quietly, and Urbosa huffed and turned away.

Link looked away, too, uncomfortably guilty, and met Daruk’s eyes instead, indicating the shrine across the road, in the middle of the pond. Daruk gave him a small, sympathetic smile and a nod, and Link hurried over, taking the time to work out how to get inside.

There was something, Link thought, that was calming about the simple puzzles in shrines – the hints, the lack of a time limit, the promise of a solution. Even the sound of the socket activating was music to his ears, and he was settled by the time he came out. Something in his mind just slotted into place while he was solving shrines.

He had to climb up the side of the shrine and glide off to get back out, but that was fine. Revali noticed him first, and spoke briefly to Urbosa before walking away as she turned towards Link, eyes flashing.

“At least you’re using your time productively,” she sighed, ignoring the look Mipha gave her. “Are you satisfied?”

Link almost took a step back, uncomfortable, and hesitated for a moment before signing, _There was a shrine in the mountain._

“That’s great, Link, let’s go,” Mipha said before Urbosa could, and swept ahead to lead the way to the bridge. Link shot Urbosa a guilty look, and then followed. He heard Daruk mutter something soft but firm to Urbosa, who sounded unrepentant. He tried not to listen.

 _I apologize for holding us up,_ he said to Mipha instead, slow and careful. She gave him a small, weary smile.

“It’s fine, Link. You’ve barely been awake for a week; it’s expected that you’re not completely recovered yet. Urbosa knows that in her heart.” Link shrugged, and Mipha hesitated for a moment before continuing. “However, I must ask… is there anything in particular that set you back today? Perhaps we can help you avoid it.”

Link bit the meat of his palm, and then admitted, reluctantly, _I should have stayed the night with Giro. Yesterday was too long._

Though if he had done that, he wouldn’t have been able to help Beedle. So it was a good thing in the end. But Link thought that the point stood all the same, even with the shadow of sadness in Mipha’s eyes.

“That’s a good boundary to know, then,” Mipha encouraged. “You need a certain amount of rest until you’re better recovered. We can help keep an eye on that for you.”

Link gave her a smile that didn’t quite hide his shame. He hoped his strength built up quickly. _Thank you._

From the Ree Dahee shrine, they went up the little river, following the lead Link had overheard in the stable. Revali rolled his eyes and complained the whole way, but Link liked to think he had learned to tune the man out.

And Link was right, anyway – a bomb placed carefully at the top of the waterfall revealed a cave that had Link grinning in triumph. There were over half a dozen chests with gems inside – not as many as he’d gotten from the talus, it was true, but one of them glowed prettily, and he spent almost twenty minutes just gazing at it, turning it over and over in his hands, eyes wide.

Another one deeper inside found him a _beautiful_ flame blade.

“Do you know how to use that safely?” Urbosa demanded as soon as she saw it, and Link gave her a sheepish shrug. She huffed, gestured for him to stand up, and gave him a rundown of the extra precautions an elemental blade needed.

 _Did I used to know this?_ he asked, setting the Sheikah Slate on the sword to put it away.

“…I don’t know,” Urbosa admitted grudgingly. “I only ever saw you use the sword that seals the darkness, and that blade never breaks.”

Link felt an echo of wistfulness before it slipped between his fingers, and he stood up again, shaking it away. _I saw a rock at the base of the waterfall. I think it might be a Korok. Meet you down the river?_

Urbosa flicked her hand dismissively, but he caught a hint of a fond smile despite everything before she started to slip down the ledge.

Link beamed, and then he jumped down too, aiming for the water below. He rolled the stone off the little island, and grinned at the laughing Korok that popped into existence, clapping in echo. Looking up, he caught sight of the others down the river and waved. Daruk waved back, so large Link could see him chuckling despite the distance.

With a large jump, Link hit the shore, shook off some of the spray that had caught him, and hiked down to where the others were waiting.

“Little brother,” Daruk greeted. A flash of insight told Link that that was the tone Daruk took when he had something more to say, so unexpected that Link almost missed it when Daruk continued. “I was looking at these rocks here – don’t exactly look natural, you see? I bet you could dislodge ‘em with one of those bombs of yours.”

Link considered the alcove Daruk had pointed out, and then nodded decisively. He turned to agree, but came face to face with the green stain on Daruk’s arm. That kept him quiet for long enough that Daruk looked down at him, frowning.

Without thinking, Link reached to touch it. He missed, but Daruk got the idea anyway.

“Yeah, little brother,” he said softly. “You made that mark on me. Wasn’t even a surprise by that point.” He paused, and then smiled gently. “I think you’ll get yours back someday. Just you wait.”

Link blinked up at him, unsure, and without answering, he turned away and dropped into the river, swimming to a little island he could throw the bomb from.

There was a shrine inside. Link was glad he had the others with him; he was sure he’d miss more things if he was on his own.

He grimaced pulling himself back out of the river again, shaking himself off like a dog. It didn’t help, but it made Daruk laugh loudly and Urbosa snort. Link shrugged at them, tugging at his sticky-wet clothes, and signed, _I really need a change of clothes._

“You should be able to get some in Kakariko,” Mipha reassured him, though her voice was dripping with amusement. “It may help if you hunted a little on the way in; grocers are almost always happy to buy meat.”

Link nodded, making a mental note, and then paused to consider and turned to hike back up the hill to the small forest there. He’d seen a couple of deer in there earlier.

There turned out to be a bear as well, but that had meat too.

A last dip into the river cleaned the blood off him, and he shook himself again before putting his prizes away and looking up at the others. _How far to Kakariko?_

“At least five hours even if you hurry,” Revali said dismissively, giving the sky a pointed look. “Though, if you think your fragile constitution can handle another _long day…”_

Link flinched and Mipha gave Revali a sharp look. “That’s enough, Revali. Recovery is a long process, and Link’s injuries were catastrophic. You saw them.”

Revali clicked his beak and didn’t deny it. A shiver ran up Link’s spine, and he rubbed the heel of his palm over his chest as it threatened to ache.

Surely not _all_ of the scars on his body were from the Calamity.

“Link asked for the day and we agreed,” Daruk said firmly, and then, to Link, “You want to spend the rest helping out at the stable? I’m sure they’d appreciate some of that meat too.”

Link nodded without looking at him. _Do I like horses?_

“Well, you used to,” Daruk said, thinly flippant. “Don’t know if you do now. Guess we’ll see, eh?”

Unable to help himself, Link glanced at Urbosa, and she sighed.

“You wouldn’t be able to talk to Impa until tomorrow anyway,” she said grudgingly.

The stablemaster was friendly and warm, if a little weary; when Link explained what he wanted, he didn’t even question it before sending Link to help his two kids feed and groom the horses in their stalls, and Link discovered that he did like horses, liked to stroke them and soothe them and feed them from his palm and laugh when they snuffled too close to his face.

The kids adapted to his presence easily; he assumed they were used to people coming and going, if not to those people helping out around the stable. He entertained them a little, offering snacks he’d picked up along the way and letting them play with the bright blue earrings he’d found the first time he reached up to fiddle with his ears.

There were more people at the stable: the stablemaster’s friend Hino, who stayed there and studied the moon and helped feed travelers; a rider who knew his way around; the girl by the pond who’d been surprised to see Link go inside…

Link liked them.

* * *

Halfway to Kakariko, Link ran into the biggest Korok he’d ever seen, moping on the side of the road. Link could see their whole body clearly, a few faint marks smeared over it, but the darkest, clearest one a dark green handprint on their belly. Already starting to smile, he broke off to kneel beside them and clicked his tongue until they looked up.

Their mouth fell open. “Can you _see_ me?”

Link shook his head, a small smile playing about his mouth, and the Korok gasped indignantly.

“You liar! If you can’t see me, how could you be talking to me?” The Korok pointed accusingly. “No one has been able to see Hestu for a hundred years! That’s amazing!”

Ah. So this was the famous Hestu.

 _Do you know sign?_ he asked on the off-chance, pleasantly surprised when Hestu started to nod vigorously.

“Link, who are you talking to?” Mipha asked quietly, kneeling beside him with a concerned look.

 _Korok,_ Link signed one-handed, and then, to Hestu, _Do you need help with something?_

Hestu perked up, adorably childlike for someone that claimed to be over a hundred. “Yes! Please! Those monsters stole my maracas. I can’t do magic without them! Can you get them for me?”

Hestu pointed, and Link followed their finger to a narrow passage a ways away.

He considered for a moment, then smiled gently, straightened up, and said, _Stay right here, I’ll be just a minute._

Hestu beamed at him, and Link turned to head towards the passage.

“Link, what are you doing?” Urbosa sounded stressed enough that Link winced, glancing at her apologetically.

 _Hestu needed a favor,_ he explained. _It shouldn’t take more than an hour. I’m getting better at fighting monsters._

“As much of a bleeding heart as ever, I see,” Revali muttered, which made Link unaccountably delighted, especially with the way Mipha smiled, eyes crinkling. Daruk chuckled.

“Go ahead and handle it, little brother. Kakariko ain’t going anywhere.”

Urbosa shot Daruk an unimpressed look, but nodded at Link nonetheless. “You have an hour,” she warned, and Link nodded.

The passage was close to ten minutes away, and Link grabbed his claymore when he was almost there, bracing himself for whatever he might find. It turned out to be nothing more than a trio of bokoblins, bickering over their prize with wide, violent gestures, and Link took a deep breath. Swallowed a strength elixir. And then went in, taking the first by surprise.

He hadn’t lied; fighting was getting easier as his body relearned once-familiar patterns, and he sidestepped swipes of the boko clubs and stabbing spears just to find an opening to swing his heavy sword. The elixir he’d taken roared through his blood, making his strikes stronger and deeper, and he pressed his advantage remorselessly, already panting.

A crushing blow to the torso brought one down. A crack over the head took the next. Link ducked under a swing of the club and kicked the last one over the edge with a shout.

Then he grabbed the maracas, blood singing with adrenaline, and marched back to Hestu, all but glowing with sweaty triumph.

Revali started muttering under his breath as soon as he saw Link’s prize. Link ignored him, beelining straight for Hestu and offering them. Hestu beamed, hopping to their feet and bouncing in glee before snatching them from Link.

“My maracas!” they screamed happily, and then started dancing. There was an awkward silence. They stared down, crestfallen. “…They don’t have any seeds.”

Link chuckled softly, grabbed for his Sheikah Slate, and tapped around until eight little seeds tumbled out into his hand. He offered them to Hestu, who gasped, eyes shining.

“Korok seeds! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” They accepted, opening up the maracas and dropping them in. “I never thought I’d be the victim of my friends’ pranks. They can be really mean sometimes, huh?”

Link smiled reassuringly, and Hestu gasped again.

“Oh! I should thank you! Do you maybe have a bag or something? I can make it bigger on the inside! It’s really cool!”

They looked so earnest that Link’s expression softened a little, and he considered for a moment before reaching for his Sheikah Slate and holding it out. Hestu peered at it for a moment, then nodded determinedly.

“I can help with that!” they declared. And then they started dancing.

Quite literally by magic, the Sheikah Slate’s storage space expanded by three slots while Link watched, surprised and pleased. Hestu came to a halt, staring at Link hopefully and panting with exertion, and Link gave them a grin.

 _Thank you,_ Link signed, and Hestu beamed.

“Anytime! Please come find me again if you find- _oh no!”_ Hestu flailed. His maracas rattled in his hands. “I have to get home before Grandpa yells at me! But please come find me in Korok Forest, okay?”

Link nodded, laughing quietly. _Stay safe._

Hestu nodded determinedly, waved one maraca, and then ran off. Link shook his head slightly, and then headed towards where the others were waiting.

 _All done,_ he promised, smiling a little while Urbosa rolled her eyes, not quite hiding a small, exasperated smile as she got up and stretched.

“It’s about time,” she sighed, and then turned and started leading the way again. Mipha laughed quietly.

“You’ve always been like this,” she said unexpectedly, falling in beside Link. He looked at her, surprised, and she clarified, her expression soft and sincere, “Taking the time to help people even with little things. It’s very like you. I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.”

Link held her gaze for just a moment, and then looked away, cheeks burning with embarrassment. She laughed, and didn’t press the topic.

* * *

Link stared at Impa for a long time after she made her ultimatum, stricken with a cold sort of dread.

Her face said she already knew what his answer would be, lined with a grim resolution where she knelt on her cushions. It didn’t make it any easier to tell her. Link swallowed.

Impa’s skin was painted with age, smears of oranges and reds and blues and a strong grass-green that he could see cupping the back of her hand. He wondered if that had been him. He wondered when she had gotten it.

 _I can’t,_ he said at last, slow and faltering and helpless. _I’m sorry._

It wasn’t entirely true: Link already knew that the answer was yes. He was ready to risk his life for Hyrule. He was ready to risk his life for _Zelda._ He was almost desperate to prove his worth, to complete the duty set before him.

But if he tried now, fragmented and fragile, plagued by what he was slowly coming to realize was battle sickness, he would fail. He would _break._

He could – but not yet.

Something about that, maybe the tremble of his hands, made Impa’s face soften. “I know, Link. You’ve always needed to take your time. When you are ready to return, I will be waiting for you.”

Link took a deep, shivering breath. _It’s spring, isn’t it?_ he asked. She nodded. _I’ll return in the fall. I promise._

Impa inclined her head solemnly. “Take this time to build up your strength. You’ll need it.”

Link nodded without looking her in the eye, and then turned around and walked out, pulling his hood up over his ears. He didn’t look at the guards either, ignoring their murmurs of concern, and instead went straight to the goddess statue, knelt, and sent up a prayer for strength, an echo of the one that had been taught to him in the Temple of Time:

_O sworn goddess of love and light, I pray to thee, thine loyal knight; that thou might see the proof I’ve brought, that I have learned the lessons that thou taught; and grant the strength to do thine will, so I may live to serve thee still._

The recitation felt ancient, resonating in the back of his mind the way only the most intimately familiar things did – a sword, his slate, the sound of Zelda’s voice. He must have recited this prayer many times.

 _It will be granted,_ the goddess murmured to him, and he let out a soft breath as he felt the magic humming in his chest bloom throughout his body. _Go, and bring peace to Hyrule._

It wasn’t enough to keep him from feeling wrung-out and drained, but each blessing had made it a little better. He was grateful.

He had a few apples in his Sheikah Slate, and one of the bowls lined up for offerings was empty; after a moment’s consideration, he released an apple neatly into his hand and knelt in front of the empty bowl to place it inside.

_“Ya-ha-ha!”_

A Korok grinned at him cheekily, held aloft by its umbrella, and Link, once he’d settled down from his scare, let out a startled laugh of his own, clicking his tongue three times as if in reply.

It made him feel a little better.

He made his way around the town next: talked each to Cado and Dorian, met Lasli, bought some food from the grocer’s and the entire stock of arrows and a small hunting knife from the general store. He played hide-and-seek with Cottla for a while, then tag, and she ran off buzzing happily. It was dizzying, how many people and how much noise there was here after the wilderness and even the small stables, but it was reassuring too.

There were some things beyond the ruins.

It was while he was chasing Cottla that Link realized he was avoiding leaving town despite the busy overstimulation of the area. Because when he left town, he would have to meet up with the others, who would ask what had happened. And he would have to tell them.

And they weren’t going to be very happy with him. He wondered if they would leave.

A little girl was crying by the cooking pot outside the grocer’s. Link grabbed his Sheikah Slate and went over to her without hesitation, kneeling beside her and making soft shushing noises until she started to calm down.

She was unusually soulmarked for such a young girl, Link noticed absently – smears on the back of her head and her wrist, her cheek and cupping her neck gently like a hold on a baby. A lot of people loved this child.

Whoever had set up the communication rune – Zelda? – had known Link well enough that there was an entire category for ‘assistance’ right by ‘introductions’. _“Do you need help?”_

She sniffled, rubbing at her face. “Koko wanted to make dinner for Cottla. Koko promised to make creamy veggie soup. But Koko has no carrots.” She let out a quiet whine, rubbing at her face. “Koko is a bad big sister! Koko will never be like Mother!”

Tap, tap – it was times like this that Link desperately wished it were easier for him to communicate. _“Everything is going to be alright. I have something for you.”_

Koko looked down, dismissed the Sheikah Slate, and looked up at Link with round, pleading eyes. “Carrots?!”

Link laughed quietly, released a couple of carrots from storage, and offered them to Koko, who squealed and clapped in relief.

“Can you help?” she pleaded, dancing a little in place. “Koko isn’t as good a cook as mother yet, but Cottla needs good food. Can you help Koko cook?”

Link nodded reassuringly, starting to cut up one of the carrots, and Koko beamed.

Despite her words, Koko was surprisingly good at cooking for such a young girl. She directed Link through what to do with only faintly wavering confidence, and Link followed her instructions with all the seriousness he could muster, keeping his mind forcefully off his postponed task.

“Come eat dinner with Koko and Cottla and Father!” Koko fairly demanded, as soon as she deemed the soup done. “You helped make it, so you have to eat some too. It’s a rule!”

Link hesitated, glancing at the village gates. He really should go talk to his friends- it was getting late.

Koko deflated a little, concern blooming over her little face. “What’s wrong?”

It was a complicated enough answer that, even after simplifying it, Link had to write it out entirely. It came out a little distorted, even ancient Sheikah tech not quite capturing the cadence of conversational speech. _“My friends are waiting. But I’m worried they’re mad at me.”_

Koko blinked at him with all the innocence of a young child, and all the worry of one a little too mature for her age. “Why would they be mad?”

Link considered, mulling it over for a minute, and then slowly tapped out that too. Koko waited patiently, bouncing a little in place, eyes shining with curiosity.

It was kind of nice, that she let him take his time. It gave him space to think about it and pare it down to what mattered.

 _“They want me to help someone, but I know it will be dangerous and I’m still hurt, so I’m waiting,”_ he offered at last.

Koko let out a soft coo of sympathy. “That sounds scary,” she said seriously. “Should Koko yell at them to go away?”

Link surprised himself with a laugh, but shook his head all the same. He indicated the finished soup instead, and Koko brightened.

“Yes! Father should be done guarding Impa soon, so he can come home and we can all eat. You need to eat too! You promised!”

Link laughed again and, despite himself, agreed with a nod.

“Oh! And Koko should make dessert! Koko can make hot buttered apples- oh, but Koko has no goat butter-!”

Dorian was surprised enough to see Link in his home that Link tugged at his ear bashfully, but he recovered quickly and thanked Link for looking after his girls, so solemnly that the tips of Link’s ears flushed pink.

Under Koko’s enthusiastic direction, Link helped to set the table, and sat with them as politely as he could, listening to Cottla chatter about her day while they ate.

Dorian had three visible marks precisely: one on each hand, which Link guessed were from Koko and Cottla from how incredibly vivid they were, and the last was one just visible at his neckline, just as stark. Link wondered if it was from his late wife or from one of his parents.

Dorian knew a little sign, and while Koko was entertaining Cottla, he asked Link what he was planning to do next, expression carefully nonjudgmental. Link avoided his eyes anyway and took a minute before answering.

 _I was going to explore first,_ he answered, slow enough to be easy to follow. _I need to fill out my map and get to know the area. I also need to complete many more shrines._

He wasn’t sure Dorian caught all of that, but he seemed to get the gist, and he nodded. Link presumed that he would be relaying the information straight to Impa, and his stomach turned. Would she disapprove?

Despite Link’s best efforts, Dorian caught his eye and seemed to notice too much.

“How old are you, Link?” he asked, soft and gentle.

Link shrugged. _Someone said I’m sixteen._

Dorian’s expression crumpled a little, which Link didn’t quite get, but he recovered himself admirably. “No one blames you for taking a few months, Link. You’ve had so little time to recover, and I’ve heard the stories.”

 _You will help no one by dying,_ Dorian added, in careful, deliberate sign, and Link tried not to shiver.

“What’s that?” Koko asked earnestly, and Dorian gave Link a significant look before turning to his daughters to explain sign.

* * *

Link met back with the others where he’d left them, just outside the village gates. All of them looked weary and quiet, and he felt awful for leaving them so long.

A little part of his mind tried to wonder why they hadn’t just come in, but he squashed it down.

He came outside and sat down, cross-legged, across the wall. Urbosa perked up immediately, such an expression of relief coming over her face that Link already felt worse.

“Oh, thank the goddesses, you’re done,” she sighed, standing up. “Where were you planning to go first? I’d recommend Vah Ruta, given-”

Link held her gaze, his jaw clenching with uncomfortable resolve.

“Urbosa,” Daruk warned, the start of realization already in his voice. Urbosa stopped, and Link took a breath.

 _I was thinking I would go west,_ he answered, motions slow and deliberate. _Put Hyrule Castle on my map. Then I’ll probably start with whichever region has the least extreme weather conditions and go from there. Look for shrines._

Urbosa’s frown was audible in her voice. “Shrines are all very well, but don’t you think you should prioritize your travels?”

Link stayed quiet, and Mipha was the first to understand entirely. The breathless hurt in her voice made him curl in on himself, hands rubbing restlessly over his calves until he reached up to tug his hood over his face.

“You didn’t talk to Impa,” Mipha breathed.

 _I did, a little,_ Link signed, forcing himself to look at her, her shocked and betrayed expression. _But she wanted me to be certain I was ready. I promised to come back in the fall._

Urbosa’s mouth opened, then closed. And then she turned and walked away, with a deliberately aggressive predator’s sway. Link didn’t watch her go, fingers twitching as he watched Mipha instead.

“…Why?” Mipha asked, and he could almost see her desperation to understand his choice, to not think badly of him. He could also see how hard it was.

 _I’m a shell of a person,_ Link explained just as desperately, his gestures becoming a little jerky as his stress wrapped around him like a sandpaper blanket. _Patched together with string and prayers. There’s nothing left of me to give._ He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and then looked at her again, searching her eyes for understanding. _I am going to help. But I need to pull myself together first._

Mipha’s eyes were brimming with tears.

 _Please,_ Link couldn’t help but tag on, fear nipping at his heels and threatening to eat him alive. His friends were all he had; he didn’t want to lose them. He didn’t want to be alone.

“Well, that’s just fantastic,” Revali bit out, making Link flinch violently. “Six months’ wait before you even attempt to begin, that’s exactly what I wanted, thank you, really. Mother goddess, what a useless chosen hero we were gifted. I’m so glad Hylia is set in her ways.”

Link reached up and pulled his hood down over his ears with a white-knuckled grip, but didn’t argue. Revali had every right to be angry with him, after all. And so did Urbosa. Mipha. Daruk. Impa. Beedle and Koko and Cottla and Dorian and Cado and Nanna-

“If we didn’t need that picky cursed sword of yours, _which you don’t even currently have,_ I remind you-!” Revali continued, voice rising with each word, drilling ferociously into Link. Link chanced a glance up just to see his stormy, irate expression and flinched.

“That’s enough, Revali,” Daruk interrupted at last, loud and stern. “Link’s choice is pretty understandable under the circumstances. We might wish he had made a different one, but are we fault lines, to move under his feet, or are we gonna hold him up like backfill?”

Revali scoffed loudly, and like Urbosa, walked away.

Link deflated, gaze dropping to stare at the triangle soulmark on the back of his hand. It was just a few shades more visible than it used to be, becoming a touch more opaque with each shrine he completed. He thought it might be a shade of yellow or brown.

Eventually, Link turned to the remaining two, and tried not to let his hands shake. _You don’t have to stay. I know this isn’t what you wanted either._

Mipha’s expression softened, though she didn’t smile and couldn’t look directly at him.

She took a deep breath.

“You’re afraid,” she said, slow and deliberate, like she was weighing every word to check for truth. “You have almost nothing to your name, not even your memory, and the quest would be challenging even to someone fully on their feet.” She nodded to herself, determined, as if that had settled her. “We’re with you, Link. As long as you need us.”

“Other two’ll come around,” Daruk added, leaning against the mountain wall. “Just give ‘em a bit. Sorry, kid. You’ve been awake for, what, a week?” He smiled, tinged with a faint bitterness. “We’ve been pushing you pretty hard, considering.”

Link shrugged, uncomfortable. _I was going to stay here another day and leave the morning after tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t want to come in?_

“We’re sure,” Daruk said, when Mipha didn’t answer. “Take your time, little brother. Fall isn’t going anywhere.”

Link gave him a strained nod, stood, and went back into Kakariko. Dorian had pointed out the inn to him earlier; he thought he had enough for a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I've been looking forward to this chapter for a while.
> 
> Drawing attention to the new relationship tag: Mipha/Link wasn't in the original plan for this story, but I'm actually 55k into writing it and their interactions definitely develop well in that direction, so I decided I liked it enough to add it in. They're just cute.


	6. Chapter 6

“The shrine is just up there,” Dorian explained, gesturing up the steep walkway threading up one side of Kakariko. “Stories say that it teaches one to fight like a god, but Impa says you never confirmed one way or another. Still, it should be worth a visit.”

Link gave him a small nod. _Thank you,_ he signed.

Dorian smiled briefly back, started to turn away, and then paused. “Oh- they say that Kakariko’s guardian spirit is up there somewhere, too. I’ve never looked for her myself – the forest is deep – but it may be worth a visit.”

Link nodded thoughtfully, making a note of that as well, and waved as Dorian left to relieve Cado.

Link would have to hurry if he wanted to be back in the village by the time the rain started coming down, but then again, it may not make much difference in the end; just the idea of being cooped up somewhere made Link restless and unhappy. Still, the heavy air made his skin tingle unpleasantly, something in his knees sparking with each heartbeat.

The shrine was easy to find, overlooking Kakariko Village from just barely over the hill. It had another one of those awful crawling machines, but slow and weak enough that Link could breathe a little easier just for the fact that this one, at least, was not intended to be an actual threat.

It was training. Just training.

The hum of magic in his chest was a reassurance by now, like a promise of recovery, and without thinking about it, he dipped his head in respect as Ta’loh Naeg dissolved into nothingness.

After the shrine, Link went deeper into the forest, rubbing his arms anxiously. The advice of a protective spirit sounded… sounded really good by now.

It was the most alone he’d been in a while, wandering around that forest. The last time, he thought – the only other time, really – had been that day wandering around the Great Plateau a week ago. It was kind of a relief, the quiet and the stillness.

Squirrels rustled around the leaves above him, and he took the time to pick some plants as he passed – blue nightshade, Stamella mushrooms, Hyrule herbs. The first silent princess he found made him pause, something niggling in the back of his mind, but it didn’t come to anything and he just put it away with the rest.

He found the fairy first: a glowing thing with fluttering wings, drifting idly in the wind and drawing his attention with a sharp flick of his head. Curious, he snuck up to it with soft, slow footsteps, eyes on its pretty paneled wings.

It turned around, and without thinking, he lifted one hand, holding it out. The fairy hovered for a moment, and then, so delicately he didn’t even feel it, landed on his fingers and stared at him with eyes that glimmered in the shade. He blinked at it, and it looked from him, to the equipment on his back, then back to him. Its wings fluttered.

Without a word exchanged between them, the fairy blew Link a kiss, and then disappeared into his Sheikah Slate. He blinked, and then smiled.

Then he took one step, broke into the clearing he’d been unknowingly just outside, and stopped again, transfixed by the sight before him.

Tucked away into the mountain face, bright with magical fungi and glittering with fairy residue, was a large, green bulb, spiked and swollen. It towered over him, brimming with latent power enough to taste. He was almost afraid to go near it. He was almost afraid to _breathe._

A fairy flitted by, beckoning him closer. Then another. Eyes on the massive flower bulb in the fountain, Link edged forward, feet flattening the grass along the forest floor.

“Boy…”

The voice made him startle, watching the slightest crack appear in the flower bud.

“Boy… come closer… will you listen to my story?”

Link took a few more steps, knelt onto the fungus platform, and nodded. From here, he could just see inside the crack, a faint shimmer and a shining eye peeking through. Curiosity bubbled up in him, along with a faint niggling worry, like something wasn’t right.

The thing in the flower bud sighed, heavy with relief.

“I am the Great Fairy, Cotera,” she murmured. Her voice was thin and worn, a shattering form of exhaustion weighing down her words. “Once my sisters and I were powerful protective spirits, but as darkness fell and the roads grew treacherous, fewer and fewer travelers arrived to offer us rupees, and now we are lost and forgotten. I need rupees to become whole again. I promise I would not forget your kindness.”

Without hesitation, Link reached down to where he’d kept some rupees in his pockets, held one up, and cocked his head.

“To become whole I need one hundred rupees,” the fairy rasped. “That would be enough for me to breathe again.”

Link had that. It took a purple, two reds, and a yellow rupee, but eventually he dug them all up and held them out, and with an unmistakable, thready gasp of relief, an enormous hand emerged from the flower and snatched them from him.

The flower bud throbbed.

“Oh…” the fairy moaned. “Oh _yes,_ the power… it’s been so _long…_ my power is _overflowing!”_

The flower bud burst open, and Link flinched away, stumbling to his feet and only just stopping himself from going for his sword. Water showered down around them, and a beautiful woman, painted with magic and bright colorful clothes, stretched luxuriously.

“It’s so wonderful to breathe again,” Cotera sighed, arching like a cat in her fountain. Half her body was still out of sight, but she looked _right,_ sitting idly amid the massive flower. After a moment, she settled again, opened her eyes, and smiled warmly at Link. “I knew you would come through, Link. You always do... and you bring the _best_ offerings.”

Link blinked at her comically, pointing at himself after a moment as if she could possibly be talking about anyone else. She laughed.

“Of course I remember you,” she cooed with a wink. “It takes much more than a hundred years for someone like me to forget a face like yours. You need some help enchanting your armor again, boy? I’m not much all by myself, but I can do a little.”

Link looked up at her, looked down, and tugged at the clothes he was wearing, and Cotera laughed again.

“You don’t have to undress unless you want to, honey. Show me what we’re working with and I’ll see what I can do.” Link did, and Cotera clucked sympathetically. “Starting from scratch, are we? You feel even more drained than I do right now. Don’t know what happened to set you back so bad, but it’s alright. Looks like you’ve got just about everything you need for a good start. One good turn deserves another, hm?”

With a few blown kisses and a rush of magic that made Link tingle all the way down to his toes, Cotera took some of his supplies and blew the latent magic into his clothing the way only a Great Fairy could. Link spun around on his toes, and then turned to look up at her, wide-eyed.

Cotera smiled at him, eyes glittering with amusement. “Aren’t you a sweet child? Where are you going next, boy?” Link pointed. Cotera glanced that way wistfully, and then her smile faded and she looked back at Link. Link flinched, but all Cotera said was, “Sweetheart, can you do me a favor while you’re running around?” Link cocked his head, wary and hesitant. “If you’d find my sisters and free them too, I’d be just delighted. Promise it’ll be worth your while. Like I said, I’m not much on my own.”

Link nodded without hesitation, taking out his notes and jotting it down. _Where are they?_ he signed without thinking, and only looked up when Cotera failed to answer, still just gazing at him solemnly. He hesitated, then flipped the Sheikah Slate around to the runes, and then to ‘questions’, and asked, _“Where?”_

Cotera laughed, soft and wry. “Oh, that little thing,” she murmured, and then, “Well, one ought to be in the desert. One in the mountains – the ones in the west. And the last should be on the eastern coast. That help you out, sweetheart?”

Link nodded instantly, writing that into his notes, and then, for lack of a better way to communicate, blew her a kiss the same way the fairy had him. She laughed, soft and musical, and waved.

“Blessings on your journey, child,” she crooned.

Then, without another word, she dove back down beneath the water, disappearing into the abyssal depths. Link watched for a moment, and then smiled faintly, a startling warm and delighted feeling blooming in his chest.

The clouds broke just as Link started to make his slow way back to the village, and he grimaced, shaking his head as the hood failed to keep the rain off his face. He reached up to tug at it, trying to avert some of the unpleasant stickiness, and then let go resignedly and continued on. The scars across his body throbbed faintly.

He was almost back to the village when he heard a faint keening and paused. He listened for a moment, head cocked, and guessed that it was a child’s voice.

Concerned, he headed towards it, peeked over the cliff edge, and found someone standing in front of what looked like a graveyard. It was too big to be Cottla; Link thought that it was probably Koko.

Why was she crying all alone?

It took Link a few minutes to make his way down into the village, and with some uncertainty, he wove his way between the buildings, looking for Impa’s home; Dorian was on shift right now, he thought, and he would probably like to know about Koko. Link could take his watch for a bit if he needed a minute.

When Link waved to Dorian and pointed at the graveyard, though, Dorian just sighed heavily.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, in a voice that very clearly said it wasn’t. “She always does this when it rains. She doesn’t want anyone to know she misses her mother.” He hesitated, and then asked, soft and ashamed, “Can you go check on her? Just for a moment, please. If it’s not a bother.”

Link nodded without hesitation, and then turned to go towards the graveyard, glad it was at least a straight line. Koko must be trying to keep quiet; he couldn’t hear her until he was almost at the graveyard.

She stopped keening and sniffled when she saw him, still rubbing her eyes, and he smiled at her gently and sat down beside her. She sniffled again, and then sat down, looking at him with wary confusion. Wondering why he was intruding on her grief, probably.

There wasn’t much Link could do to make it better, but he untied his hood and offered it to her, and she shook her head, wiping at her eyes with one hand.

“No thank you,” she mumbled. “Koko likes the rain. If she cries in the rain, Mother won’t see, you know?” She nodded at the graveyard, and Link’s heart broke quietly. He tied his hood back on, but left it down and nodded at the graveyard too. Koko shuffled closer. “Father doesn’t like to talk about what happened to Mother, ‘cause Cottla’s so little. But Koko knows.” Quietly, like a secret, she whispered, “Koko misses Mother a lot. Koko isn’t as good at taking care of Cottla as Mother was.”

Koko’s hair was plastered messily to her face, her eyes red with tears. Link reached up and brushed her hair back without thinking, and this time he could watch as his fingers left a streak of green at her hairline. He looked down at his hand, surprised, and found his fingertips colored a light lavender that matched the soul paint on Dorian’s right hand.

Puzzled, Koko looked down too – and then, to his surprise, she laughed, reaching up to rub at her face again.

“Father says that Mother painted everyone she touched too,” Koko said softly. “He says Koko will be just like her someday, but Koko isn’t sure that’s true. Mother had so many colors.”

Link smiled at her, gently took one of her hands, and turned it palm up. It was splattered and streaked, as he suspected; soulmarks were always concentrated most heavily on the hands.

“But Mother had _more,”_ Koko said plaintively.

Link smiled crookedly, and for the first time, held out his own hands – four marks, two barely visible, to nearly a dozen on Koko’s much littler ones.

Koko’s mouth formed an ‘o’. He wondered if she’d ever really looked at the hands of other people before.

Her father, for instance, only had the marks of his two daughters there.

She looked at her hands with newly wide eyes, and then beamed at him. He laughed a little, and then more when she jumped, her eyes going wide.

“Koko has to go make Cottla dinner!” she cried, and then she was running. He followed at a more sedate pace, shaking his head.

Koko was a good kid.

* * *

Link left Kakariko the next morning, feeling… not ready, but at least impatient to continue moving and a little relieved to be leaving the busy village.

Of course, his mood came crashing back down when he met with the others partway down the road and realized that Mipha still wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Revali and Urbosa were keeping a sizable distance away. His shoulders fell.

He looked up at Daruk, who gave him a small, reassuring smile that didn’t actually help much.

“Ready to go?” Daruk asked, and Link held his gaze for a long moment before nodding and starting to walk.

The silence was stifling, not at all like the gentle nature sounds from when Link had been exploring the forest near Kakariko. Link did his best to ignore it, crouching by the foot of the cliff every few feet to gather the mushrooms and plants he recognized there. He caught lizards when they scurried by, and even a cricket or two, and listened to the faint whistle of the wind.

Urbosa’s gaze burned into his back, and his fingers twitched for his sword just from the sheer displeasure he could sense.

He got up and kept walking, his footsteps haunted by the shadows of his friends.

“So!” Daruk asked loudly, when the silence apparently got to be too much for him. “Why’re you so eager to see the castle? Getting a feel for the monster? I wouldn’t blame ya.”

Link’s steps faltered a little at the thought of the beast that engulfed Hyrule Castle, and he shook his head, hesitated, and then shrugged. _I think I’m worried about Zelda,_ he explained. _I know it won’t help, but I want to see the castle._

Daruk was quiet for a bit.

“You really don’t remember anything, do you, little brother?” Link shot him a wary look, to which Daruk smiled wryly. “Princess always meant an awful lot to you, that’s all. Even before she liked you. Even before you liked _her.”_

Link thought he understood that, on an intellectual level; all the signs were there. The feeling he got when he heard her voice. Her careful explanations as he was waking. All of the hundreds of little phrases she must have recorded one by one on his Sheikah Slate.

And then there was the faint, transparent soulmark on his hand, still there even after all the others were wiped away.

He held out his hand, the one tinted faintly yellow, and Daruk nodded.

“I know the story behind that one, if you want to hear it,” Daruk said. Link nodded without hesitation, wide eyes on Daruk. “Was after you’d been guarding the princess for a good while, but before we met. The two of you ran into a gang of mounted bokoblin out in a field somewhere, while the princess was workin’ on the field research she liked so much.”

Link tried to picture it: the bokoblin on horses, the two of them on foot, a girl with maybe silver hair like the Sheikah and a fancy dress-

“Princess Zelda didn’t have a lot of battle experience, obviously, though she’d seen the aftermath plenty,” Daruk continued, oblivious, while Link listened with rapt attention. “Had a hard time keeping out of the way while you handled them. At some point you were riding side by side-” Link’s image rearranged, and he got briefly distracted wondering what kind of horses they’d both had before he refocused. “And she came close enough to getting shot so many times that you just pulled her straight off her horse and onto yours. King was pissed when he saw the handprint on her arm, apparently.”

Link’s mouth opened slightly, and he looked down at his yellowed palm with new fascination. He clenched it into a fist, trying to imagine it, and then looked back up at Daruk and smiled.

“Yes, yes, you used to be a moderately competent bodyguard,” Revali sniped, unusually harsh and sudden enough to make Link jump. “A really excellent job you’re doing of that right now, taking three days’ journey just to stare at her pain from a distance.”

Link’s smile dropped and he looked back to the front, pulling his hand against his chest. He didn’t answer. Revali snorted in vindication, clicking his beak.

“That’s unfair, Revali,” Mipha said sharply. “There’s precious little Link could do now, when he’s barely woken. He needs to regain his strength. He needs to _recover.”_

“He’s been ‘barely woken’ for over a week,” Revali snapped back. “When are you going to stop using that as an excuse?”

“Recovery takes time,” Mipha said staunchly, refusing to give ground. “It takes weeks and months.”

“He’s taken a hundred years!”

“And he could have taken an _eternity_ with the injuries he had!”

Link’s chest throbbed. Revali and Mipha had stopped walking; Urbosa had not. Link looked up at Daruk, and pointed at himself and then down to the river. Daruk gave him an understanding look, and waved him on.

Unnoticed by the two furious companions, Link slid down the riverbank and grabbed his bow. He crouched on the edge, eyes scanning the water with exaggerated concentration.

“Well, _boo hoo!_ He could have died! The king should have thought of that when he assigned him as a royal guard!”

“Revali, _you-!”_

Mipha was actually audibly speechless with outrage. Hands deliberately, forcefully steady, Link nocked an arrow and aimed into the water, and fired. A fish floated to the top, dead. He hopped onto a nearby rock and grabbed it without thinking, and then dropped down to lean back on his hands and pant. His head spun.

Mipha took a deep breath. Revali had gone suspiciously silent.

“You’re callous, but you’re not typically cruel,” Mipha said at last, with the forced understanding that she had brought to heel for Link not long before. “Perhaps you would like to say that again in a less _horrible_ way.”

It was a few minutes before Revali spoke, stiff and harsh.

“He is _sixteen,_ Mipha. This never should have been his job in the first place. Every step of this situation has been entirely predictable, and yes, I _resent it.”_

There was a beat of silence. On his rock, still panting, Link curled in on himself and rubbed the heels of his palms over his face harshly, then moved one hand to his mouth, teeth sinking into his knuckles. Blank and dazed, he watched the water ripple, fish flickering beneath the surface. Maybe he should catch another. Maybe. When he caught his breath.

“Goddess above, Revali,” Mipha sighed at last, with a mixture of frustration and relief. “You’re so _awful_ at showing you care.”

Daruk cleared his throat meaningfully. A heartbeat passed.

Revali swore loudly.

“Urbosa, please stop pretending you haven’t noticed we’ve stopped,” Mipha called out patiently, and then suddenly she was crouching by Link, expression soft again in away that seemed unreal. “Revali didn’t mean that anything like the way it sounded. He was very upset when he saw how injured you were, as were we all.”

It wasn’t that Link couldn’t hear her, but her voice seemed to come from so far away that it didn’t matter. He didn’t respond, eyes fixed on the water. His knuckles rubbed absently against his chest, trying to soothe a half-imaginary ache. His heart fluttered like a frightened bird. He shook his head.

“Please take your hand out of your mouth, Link.”

Link obeyed, dropping it to spread flat on his chest. Mipha smiled at him gently.

“Now breathe in, one, two, three… And out, one, two, three…”

Link registered dimly that he was still panting, harsh and shallow, and struggled to follow her instructions, eyes squeezing shut. Panic fluttered distantly in the back of his mind, but he breathed with Mipha’s count and felt his heart rate start to slow even as he shivered.

“That’s great, Link,” Mipha soothed. “That’s perfect. Can you look at me?”

A few more breaths, and Link paused, then looked at Mipha. He felt scraped raw and vulnerable, and he disliked it. He didn’t want to be looked at like this. He wondered vaguely if he could climb a tree and hide in it for a while.

 _Sorry,_ he signed, without looking at anyone else. _I can do better._

“You’ve never done anything less than the best you can,” Mipha said quietly. “I would not assume that you were going to change that now.”

It was true. But that hardly mattered if Link’s best just wasn’t good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of feelings about all of the everything.
> 
> Hopefully by about this time next week I'll be a decent way through AOC and have some idea of how it'll impact the story from here on out! (Probably not a lot.)


	7. Chapter 7

The situation didn’t improve any as Link made his slow way closer to the castle. From Kakariko he settled at Dueling Peaks stable; from the stable he passed through Dueling Peaks again and climbed the tower he’d passed just on the other side. From that high vantage point, he marked out every other tower he could see, then headed to the river, solving every little puzzle he noticed to collect Korok seeds, and then went up the river to another stable, Riverside.

It was quiet, rhythmic work, easily done in silence when no one was willing to talk. Once or twice, the only sounds he made all day were when he clapped back to the Koroks he found, or soft hisses when he got stung by a bee gathering honey.

Urbosa still hadn’t said a word to him since Kakariko. Mipha, while kind, was still visibly preoccupied, and wandered off for short periods to be on her own. Revali made biting remarks at every opportunity, starting arguments with Mipha about half the time.

Daruk, at least, seemed to understand Link’s decision, and that was something of a relief. He pointed out a few shrines Link missed, and depending on how close they were, he marked them or made his way over.

“Don’t worry, kid,” he said once, too low for anyone else to make out. “They’ll come around. It ain’t easy to realize after a hundred years that things aren’t gonna pan out like you thought they would.”

Link hesitated, and then checked quickly, _You don’t think they’ll leave?_

Daruk sighed, heavy and raspy, and said, “No. Not a one of them is like that. Promise. And what are we gonna do elsewhere anyway?”

Link’s fingers spasmed against his chest, and he looked away quickly and didn’t answer, checking how close they’d gotten to the tower looming closer and closer as they walked. Daruk let him be, using his larger height to check out over the hills and squint past trees, and didn’t break the silence for another hour.

“You should be careful,” Daruk warned at last, when they started to get closer to the tower nearest Hyrule Castle. “Supposed to be a lot of guardians in this area. Proper live ones too.”

Link faltered visibly, head whipping up to look around like one might be heading right for him. He bit his lip, then straightened his back, took a breath, and nodded, but didn’t take his wide eyes off their surroundings.

He spoke to Daruk without looking. _The rest of you should go on,_ he signed. _I need to climb the tower, but there’s no reason for all of us to go up there._

Daruk’s brow furrowed. “You sure? Might be useful to have someone to watch your back. And that’s if you really have to go at all, right now.”

 _I have to,_ Link said firmly. Daruk just nodded, not looking surprised.

Mipha stepped right up to him, met his eyes, and said clearly, “There’s a stable to the southwest of the tower. We’ll be waiting there for you. Come back safely.”

 _I will,_ Link promised, glancing in the direction of the high tower in the middle distance. There were a few patches of forest in between him and it; he could change into his Sheikah armor and make his way there cautiously. _I’ll try to be quick._

“Be _safe,”_ Mipha reasserted sternly, and just now there was no trace of her hurt in her expression. This time, Link just nodded, and the group parted ways.

Link changed in the next forest, pulling on Sheikah clothes that didn’t rustle, and then kept going. His head turned back and forth, scanning the field warily, but only a few moblins came within his range and he ignored them steadfastly.

If it weren’t for the gnawing fear, the silence as he trod forward would have almost been comfortable.

He had almost reached the tower when he saw the first intact guardian – a massive, scurrying thing that towered over Link’s head, blaring the most awful klaxon as its single eye scanned its surroundings. All the breath went out of Link’s chest, and he pressed himself behind the nearest crumbled wall, his muscles locking him in place.

He could hear its feet thudding against the hard earth, and its beeps grew deafeningly loud as it approached. A shadow fell over Link, and he didn’t dare breathe. His heart beat like an aching apple in his throat.

Link’s chest throbbed, and he wasn’t sure if it was from something half-remembered or from the frantic race of his terrified heart. He could hear his blood roaring in his ears, and it almost covered up the patient beep of the alert guardian, growing slowly softer as it finally scurried away.

He took in a deep, dragging breath, muffled by the Sheikah mask, and it left in something dangerously close to a whine. Then he got up, looked around, and bolted closer to the tower.

It took everything Link had not to just go for the tower at a dead run; instead he took it in stretches, making use of every scrap of ruins he could hide behind, his attention switching between each guardian in his range. One that was pacing, one half-buried, one on the other side of the tower and another in the far distance-

There was a large stretch of bare earth between the last crumbled wall and the tower, and Link swallowed a speed-boost elixir and then threw himself at it blindly.

He still barely made it before the guardian fired, and the backsplash of the energy beam was so close that Link could feel the heat on his face. Huddled against the wall of the platform, making himself as small as possible, he couldn’t tear his eyes off the scorch mark just a few feet away from his face.

For a second – for just a moment – he wanted nothing more than to warp away and forget the tower entirely. He wanted to take a different path, retrace his steps, and meet his friends at the stable without taking another step near the malice-infested machines. He didn’t want to be here anymore.

One thought held him back, kept him clench-jawed and determined as he measured the distance to the next platform.

This was as close as Link was likely to get to Zelda for at least a year.

It was this that propelled him up, scrambling from platform to platform, fingers bleeding in minutes from how frantically he was grasping at the grating. Bright blue eyes locked on him every time he left the safety of a low wall, the whine of a charging beam reaching him even from halfway up the tower. The wind chilled the silent tears that had fallen onto his face, terror and adrenaline ripping through him.

After a blind eternity, Link finally jerked himself up over the top, onto the highest platform, and ignored the central slate dock to cover his face and scream, his fingers digging into his scalp, leaving streaks of blood where the metal had torn into his fingers.

Goddess, he hated guardians.

 _Fuck,_ he hated guardians.

He ran his fingers through his hair, over and over, trying to soothe himself and his racing heart. He pushed his knees under him, shoved his hands against his thighs, rocked faintly in place, yanked his hood further down over his face and tried to breathe. His stomach roiled, threatening to rebel.

It was quiet up on top of the tower, nothing but the whistle of the wind, and it was that that finally calmed him, shivering silently. And then he looked up.

Link couldn’t see the castle much more clearly from here than he had before, he realized dimly – but he could, a little. He could make out the pillars of crystal malice that surrounded the castle, the writhing fog, the shape of the towers and surrounding ramparts.

There was a princess in there, somewhere. There was Zelda, holding out for as long as she could, waiting for him to come and strike the final blow. With a sword he didn’t have, and a blessing he couldn’t remember.

One of his hands drifted to the other, covering the faint triforce on the back of his hand. Tears threatened to freeze to his face, and for a long time, he just watched the castle, muscles trembling beyond his control.

He turned his hand over, exposing the faint yellow tint on his palm, and kept staring.

The sun was starting to dip low in the sky when someone swooping in made him jump, and he turned his head sharply, hand going for his weapon, when he saw who it was. Link tried to relax, drawing his hand back to his chest, and just tilted his head instead, watching Revali as he smoothed his feathers with an irate ruffle and then turned his attention on Link.

“Really,” he huffed, strutting across the platform to drop down beside Link with all the attitude he could seem to muster. “All this time, and all you’ve managed to do was climb the tower and stare at the castle?”

Link blinked at him, wondering at the sudden thinness of his veneer of hostility, and Revali gave a put-upon sigh, turning away with a dismissive flick of his feathers.

“You didn’t spend nearly this long at Dueling Peaks, I swear to the goddesses – stand up and download the map so we can go. We should be able to fly a decent portion of the way to the stable, certainly enough that the guardians will be out of reach. You can stop looking so pathetic.”

It took Link a moment to process that, but as soon as he did, the rush of relief was intense enough to make him dizzy. He stood up, forcing his legs not to give out from under him, and crossed over to the pedestal to place the Sheikah Slate inside and let it load.

He took a deep breath, trying to force his muscles to stop trembling, and, after a long moment, turned to face Revali. Revali was watching him with an unreadable expression.

 _I’m sorry I’m slow,_ he said at last. _I know you expected better._

Revali snorted. “Perhaps people should reconsider what they’re expecting of one blessed teenager,” he said tartly, while the tower lit up blue around them.

While Link was still processing that, Revali turned away and nodded down at somewhere along the road.

“We’re heading for Outskirt stable,” he said disinterestedly. “It should be easy enough to find down the road, so I’m not going to babysit you the entire way there. I’ll be moving along to let the others know you haven’t gotten yourself stupidly killed as soon as you land.”

Link nodded, eyes on the same stretch of road, and reached onto his back to grab the paraglider. It would sting his hurt fingers, with his whole weight on them, but not enough to really bother him.

He looked at Revali. Revali didn’t spare him more than a glance in return, and jumped off the tower in an elegant swoop. Link hesitated for just a moment, and then followed.

“Drop!” Revali snapped, raising his voice to be heard above the roaring wind, and then banked hard. Link obeyed, tilting the paraglider just right so he dropped several yards before catching the wind again, and shuddered violently as another guardian beam soared over his head.

Less than ten minutes later, Revali hit the ground behind a rock, and Link tumbled after him, panting and exhausted and shaking, so frightened that he was nauseous with it.

For a long moment, they were both silent, and even when Link pushed himself upright, Revali kept staring at him, beak clicking in faint disapproval.

“It should be smooth from here on out,” Revali said eventually. “I assume you can pick yourself up and get there without any issue, so I’ll go inform the others that you haven’t died yet.”

Link nodded, even though Revali was no longer looking at him, and the man took off with a flurry of wind. Link’s hands were still shaking.

A soothing sort of quiet settled over the area in Revali’s wake, though, and Link took a breath, and then another, and another. Rubbed his forearms. Looked up and down the path, and then got up. He stretched tentatively, feeling his scarred skin pull taut, and realized he still didn’t want to move.

He could wait, couldn’t he? Just for a bit.

Decisively, Link drew his sword and started doing drills, rotating through the three he remembered well until a fourth slowly bloomed into being, memory or intuition or both. Slow, familiar, rhythmic…

He wished he didn’t have to go anywhere.

Night started to fall before he started moving, and a swarm of keese swirled overhead, screeching and flapping loudly. Link kept his sword out as he walked, knuckles white on the grip.

His ears twitched at the cacophony of noise yanking at his nerves. The breeze stung his skin like bees dragging themselves over his cheeks. He clenched his jaw, tension creeping up his spine and threatening to overwhelm him. He kept thinking that he could hear the thud of a guardian’s creeping footsteps behind him.

It wasn’t the monster camp that made him break, the stress of sneaking by or the whirling keese giving him away or even the prospect of being seen and having to tackle it or flee.

It was the horn – the bellow of a monster’s klaxon as one of the lookouts became too suspicious, ringing in his ears and setting his heart racing irrationally again.

Link bolted, and when he came back to awareness minutes later, he was crouched and panting in a filled-in old well, rubbing his ear against the stonework through the hood. His teeth ground together, and he was shivering again. He scratched at his forearms as his skin crawled, and he shook his head at nothing.

He wondered if his friends would mind if he was a day late. If he just- if he waited.

The moon was in the sky when he heard footsteps, the sound making his ears twitch and his teeth grit as the soothing silence broke. A grunt of protest escaped his mouth.

The footsteps paused. Then, slow and steady, they started to head towards him. Link groped for his sword, and glared out of the well, willing his sore muscles to hold up just a little while longer.

Beedle’s head poked over the edge, peering in with concern. Link relaxed.

“What are you doing in there?” Beedle asked. Loudly.

Link flinched despite his best efforts, turning his head to grind his ear against the stone again, as if that would wipe away the vibrations he could feel in his head like they were stuck there. Beedle was quiet for a minute, and Link gulped down breath until it was steady again.

“Going to Outskirt?” Beedle asked at last, much softer. Link swallowed a couple of times, and then nodded. “Me too. Let’s walk together.”

Link blinked tiredly up at him, then thought about the fact that it was night, and Beedle didn’t carry a sword. And his friends would be worried, and he’d done enough to them this week.

Link pulled himself out of the well, stumbled, and caught himself. He kept his sword out in his hand, though his shield stayed on his back, and glanced up and down the path warily before nodding at Beedle.

Beedle grinned at him. “Just about two hours away,” he assured Link earnestly, starting to walk. Link walked beside him, keeping his attention on their surroundings, and didn’t answer. “You know, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon-”

Beedle kept talking in a soft, enthusiastic voice, easy enough to let fade into the background. Link nodded along vaguely, not really listening, eyes roving over the hillsides and ruins they passed by.

Twice, skeletal moblins came crawling out of the ground, but they were easy enough to dispatch; one swing of Link’s sword shattered their bones, and their skulls crumbled under his feet. Beedle couldn’t run well, with that backpack of his, but that was fine.

Link was tired, but not too tired to keep an eye on the road and a hand on his sword.

They arrived at the stable a few hours later, late into the night, and to Link’s surprise, his knees locked a few yards away.

The stable was bright. There were over half a dozen people there, and communicating was _hard_ and he didn’t want to try right now. He could hear people talking. He wanted to throw up.

Beedle looked at him and clucked sympathetically at whatever expression Link was wearing. “I can talk to them if that’s easier.”

It took Link a moment to process Beedle’s words, but as soon as he had, he was nodding. A moment’s thought, and he dug through his pockets for rupees and then gave them to Beedle.

 _Thank you,_ Link signed with relief, and then darted off along the back before Beedle even had a chance to reply.

The tree he climbed into wasn’t as good as the filled-in well, but it was better than the stable; he would brave that later. For now, he sheathed his sword, clung to a branch, and struggled to calm himself.

Mipha found him there first.

“Oh, _Link._ Was it worth it?” she asked, voice soothing and low as she looked up at him through the branches.

Link’s breath was heavy and labored, lightheaded with lingering terror and draining adrenaline, but after a second, he nodded. He’d gotten what he’d wanted, which was, he admitted to himself, to do the best he felt he was capable of at the moment. He’d done it.

Mipha smiled at him gently, sat at the foot of the tree, and waited with him.

After a few minutes, Beedle came out of the stable again, leaned against the tree, and grinned up at Link. “All done,” he said cheerfully. “They’ll let you in when you’re ready. You comfortable up there?”

Link managed a small smile in return and nodded. _Thank you,_ he repeated.

Then he pressed his cheek to the bark through the cloth hood, closed his eyes, and tried to wait out the tremble of his body.

* * *

Link spent a couple of days at Outskirt stable, and no one there seemed to mind; he went hunting for the meat that Trott had so badly wanted, cooked a few meals with some of the honey that wasn’t local to the area, and helped to groom the horses. He noted down the rumors of a royal horse descendant lurking in the hills nearby, scribbling out everything the old man mentioned, much to his very visible pleasure.

Zelda would need a horse when she was free, and better the offspring of her old one than a random horse off the field. He wondered if his own horse had descendants running around.

There was a coliseum nearby as well – or rather, the old ruins of one, surprisingly intact save for the malice caked up one side. Link didn’t look any closer than the roiling, poisonous sludge before he felt sick enough not to want to go near, and ended up only just venturing close enough to coax away a wayward treasure hunter. Nowhere with that much malice was safe.

Through all of this, the others stayed mostly on the periphery. Daruk accompanied Link about half the time, making casual, light conversation, and Mipha came sometimes as well. Urbosa was still fuming, but she hadn’t left and that made Link hopeful. And Revali had- well, Revali had more or less gone back to normal.

 _I saw a shrine while I was heading here from Central Tower,_ he said after a few days, a spoon sticking out of his mouth as he signed. He took it out at Mipha’s pained expression and continued, _I was going to go back for it. I don’t think it’s close enough to run into anything._

“I’d like to come with you,” Mipha said, in such a tone that Link guessed she wasn’t actually going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

He glanced at Daruk, but Daruk just waved his hand. “Go for it, little brother. I’ll have a look around here, see if I can scout out any more.”

Link gave him a small, grateful smile, and that was that.

Link and Mipha set out that morning, heading back up the trail into Central Hyrule again. Mipha seemed to notice Link’s tension despite his best efforts, and kept the pace casual, solemn gaze sweeping over the ruins as they passed.

 _Did you know that I’ve actually heard your voice?_ Mipha signed after a while, surprising Link. She smiled a little at his expression. _Yes. We ran into each other once when you were very small. You didn’t talk much even then, but when I healed your bruises, you said ‘thank you’. I believe that’s the only time I’ve ever heard you speak aloud._

It was odd to imagine. At this point, _Link_ hadn’t even heard the sound of his own voice.

 _Do you wish I’d go back to that?_ Link asked uncertainly.

 _Oh, certainly not,_ Mipha said immediately, and then corrected, _That is, I don’t at all expect you to change for any reason. I see you speak every day; that is enough for me._

Link smiled, relieved and a little embarrassed, and Mipha gave him an unexpectedly warm smile back. For a while longer, they both walked without speaking, watching the ruins of the old Hylian outposts.

“Link,” Mipha said softly, catching his attention, and then, _I’m sorry for reacting poorly when you asked for time. It caught me by surprise, but that is precious little excuse. I hope you can forgive me._

Link faltered a little, startled.

 _Of course,_ he said after a moment. _I was never mad. You had good reason to be upset. I’m only sorry there wasn’t a better way to compromise._

Mipha smiled, faintly pained. _Funny how inconvenient life can be that way._

Link laughed, and Mipha’s smile eased.

They skirted around a large monster camp, lending unspoken priority to the shrine, and were not quite halfway there when the clang of wood on metal caught Link’s attention. He and Mipha exchanged a quick, serious look, and then they took off.

“C-come at me!” a tremulous voice yelled. “Go on, leave her alone, come at me!”

Link rounded a corner and, as-yet unnoticed by the bokoblin shrieking gleefully at the cornered man, took the chance to crack a claymore over its head and send it crashing to the ground. The man stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed and panting, and opened his mouth. Then shut it and whirled towards something else, and Link followed his gaze.

A woman snarled at a second bokoblin, tight with panic, and then let out a cry as its bat collided with her shoulder. Without hesitation, Link darted towards them and kicked the bokoblin away just to build distance, blocked the first swing of the bat with his own sword, and then tripped it up and ran it through, panting.

“Well done, Link,” Mipha murmured, kneeling to examine the corpse even as the man shuffled in front of the woman, sword only just starting to tremulously drop.

Link pulled his sword free with a grimace and turned towards the couple with a small nod. As if that was some kind of cue, they both nearly collapsed into each other with obvious relief.

“Oh, thank you,” the man breathed, clinging to the woman with a ferocity that made Link wonder how close they were. “I should have known better than to suggest treasure hunting in this area, I’m no swordsman – not like you, goddesses above, that was amazing.”

A little embarrassed, Link shrugged, glancing briefly at Mipha. Mipha gave him a small, amused smile and silently indicated his Sheikah Slate, and he obediently fumbled with it to turn to the couple and ask, _“Are you okay?”_

“Sheikah tech,” the woman breathed, before the man elbowed her gently. In response, the woman shook herself and straightened, giving Link a strained smile. “We’re fine, I think – that bat didn’t hit as hard as it looked like it would. Mils, are you fine?”

“Completely, now I know you’re alright,” Mils assured her, and then, to Link, “I’m Mils and this is my wife, Mina – we were exploring the area, but uh, we’ll probably move on after this. But would you stay and share a meal with us? As a gesture of thanks, I mean. It’s the least we can do.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Mipha murmured to Link, who just had time to nod before she was walking away, placing herself between the three of them and the castle.

He felt better, knowing she was keeping an eye out for any approaching machines. The very last thing he wanted was to be taken by surprise.

Or at all.

 _“It would be my pleasure,”_ Zelda’s voice said with the tap of a button, and when Mils grinned at him and knelt to start arranging a fire, Link knelt beside him to help.

“Where did you get that equipment? Monsters?” Mina asked with interest, unpacking her bag and starting to pick out ingredients. “They always seem to have the best of it, it’s entirely absurd.”

Link nodded, tossing a chunk of flint by the stack of wood when Mils faltered. Mils gave him a grateful look and struck it, and then carefully tended the fire until it burned merrily between them.

 _“Skeletons. Night. Best,”_ Zelda’s voice said, the communication rune not quite equipped for concepts so far from what had been going on a hundred years ago.

Mils hesitated. “Not to pry, but…” He glanced meaningfully down at the Sheikah Slate, a touch of apprehension in his eyes, and Link suppressed a sigh.

There was a button in _introductions_ labeled only as ‘reason for silence’. Link barely even thought about it before tapping.

_“There’s nothing wrong with my throat or mouth; the difficulty is somewhere in my mind, similar to what might keep you from eating a live frog even though it is technically possible. I can no more speak than you can swallow a butterfly whole, so I use sign language or this device.”_

It was flowery, but something about the explanation made Link feel wistful and helplessly fond, tugging at his hood lightly. The patience in Zelda’s voice was audible, the explanation concise and unconcerned, and Link found that he appreciated it.

Mina whistled sympathetically. “Oh, I see. Yeah, Sheikah tech can be real useful for- well, for this kind of thing. Don’t know how you got a hold of it, but I can see why you wouldn’t give it up.”

Link offered a small half-smile and a nod, and then tapped around and asked, _“What are you doing here?”_

In perfect unison, Mina and Mils both flushed.

“Well, you see-”

“I insisted-”

Both of them stopped, and Link laughed. Mina and Mils looked at each other, then back at him, and Mina said, embarrassed,

“Both of us tend to enjoy exploring ruins, and the area around the outskirts of Hyrule is best for it. Lots of ruins, not many people by to empty them out… there are old books, sometimes, diaries, it’s very fascinating.”

“Unfortunately, it’s also the most rife with monsters,” Mils sighed. “I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

“Oh, hush, I shouldn’t have agreed.”

Mina took a cooking pot out of her pack and placed it over the fire, dropping a careful measure of goat butter inside.

“Where are you going?” Mils asked after a bit, leaning over to watch his wife cook. “Mina and I should probably head home for a while after this, see if we can figure out a safer place to treasure hunt.”

“Maybe try out spelunking,” Mina said ruefully, and Mils chuckled and nodded.

Link thought mountain caves probably had monsters too, but at least these two had the sense to get swords. _“Gerudo Desert,”_ he answered, and then, tongue between his teeth as he searched, _“Great Fairy.”_

Mils whistled, visibly impressed. “So you’re fond of chasing rumors too.”

Link smiled a little and shrugged. He supposed one could call the word of the Great Fairy Cotera a rumor, if you were feeling uncharitable.

They lingered there for close to an hour, sharing their meal amicably and talking about the surrounding area. Link ran them both through some movements that might help them get away in the future, and then they parted ways, Mina and Mils heading home and Link on to the shrine.

 _Are you sure you don’t want any?_ he asked Mipha as they started walking, frowning faintly.

Mipha smiled oddly and shook her head. _Let’s hurry. I can make myself something while you’re busy in the shrine. Some of them can be quite long._

Link nodded absently, and dismissed any worries out of hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing through Age of Calamity now! Conclusion so far is that any lore I include will probably be indistinguishable from the lore I'm just making up, and the latter will outnumber the former by far anyway.
> 
> Mipha is being very careful with Link.


	8. Chapter 8

They made their way towards the desert first. Urbosa led the way there, still stonily silent and radiating ice with every step she took.

Link braced himself, jogged up toward her, and tried to put himself in her line of sight. She turned her head disdainfully, and Link slid to her other side. She turned her head again, lips pursing. Link made a soft sound of protest.

Urbosa sighed heavily, then glanced toward him and raised an eyebrow. “What.”

Link studied her for a moment, wary and unsure.

He liked Urbosa; she was a steady presence, reliable and surehearted, and despite her intolerance for nonsense she was rarely _unkind,_ even in the face of Link’s abject and repeated failures _._ For one, it meant a lot just that she was there when he woke up, disoriented and afraid, and then _stayed._ And he understood, too, her worry for Zelda.

He suspected that the handprint on her cheek was the same color as the palm of his hand would have been, before it faded.

 _I’m sorry for failing to protect Zelda,_ Link said, when the silence stretched on long enough that Urbosa’s eyes narrowed. _And for leaving._

Urbosa’s expression softened subtly, but she didn’t reply, turning her head again. Determined, Link switched to her other side, back into her line of sight, and pushed,

_I’m sorry for acting cowardly. I’m sorry for being selfish._

An eternity seemed to pass before Urbosa sighed, something pensive entering into her expression, and she nodded absently.

“Why are we going to my homeland first?” she asked.

It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was clemency, and Link was grateful for it. He skipped ahead just enough to skid into her line of sight again, and started signing, explaining Cotera’s request.

Behind them, Daruk let out an audible sigh of relief.

* * *

“It’s the blood moon,” Daruk said grimly, when Link pointed upward at the red moon rising in the sky. Link shot him a frown, and Daruk shrugged. “’S a manifestation of Ganon’s power. Happens every so often. Blood moon rises in the sky, and every monster you’ve slain since the last one comes back.”

Link blanched, even as Revali scoffed, shaking himself as he gave the sky a wary look.

“It’s clever,” he said disdainfully. “A perfect way to keep the kingdom on its knees, and its allies not much better. They struggle to keep enough breathing room to survive, and balk at going out to new or forbidden places.”

Link’s hand clenched around his cracking, stolen sword, staring apprehensively back down the path he’d just traversed, and he heard Mipha sigh over the whistle of the wind.

“Let’s keep going, Link,” she encouraged. “You’ll need to rest for the night before you move on.”

 _But I cleared the path,_ he complained halfheartedly, shaking his head as he started walking again. According to Urbosa, there was only one reliable path in and out of the desert. Link had wanted it to be _safe._ He’d weathered nearly a dozen blows trying to make it safe, and his body ached.

“Oh, _Link,”_ Mipha murmured affectionately, making him flush. She’d taken almost the same tone when he backtracked to get a horse for the stranded traveler.

“It was a good thought, little brother,” Daruk assured him. “You can clear it again on your way back out. It’ll hold for at least a while.”

Link nodded reluctantly, continuing on towards the stable.

“I wonder why the Gerudo aren’t keeping it clear, though,” Urbosa murmured. “Trade and travel are vital to keep the city alive. Keeping the way safe should be a priority.”

Link read the open concern in her voice and promised himself he’d look into it – and definitely clear the path again before he left.

He was rubbing his eyes by the time he reached the Gerudo Canyon stable, but he still paused as he _felt_ the malice in the air rise to a crescendo, so intense that he could taste it. He turned his head to watch the moon, and the fog of poison covering it up, swirling and condensing until the sky was nothing but old and malicious power.

 _"Be careful, Link,"_ Zelda whispered in his ear, a hoarse and weary echo. _"Hyrule needs both of us."_

Then, in a flash, it was gone, and the sky was clear again.

The blood moon had passed.

Link let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“And so the cycle begins once again,” Mipha said, soft and disappointed. She nodded at Link. “We’ll meet you in the morning. You may want to climb the tower before you attempt to go into the desert.”

“I’ll be with you the whole time, but you’ll want a map regardless,” Urbosa agreed with a nod to Mipha. “I can think of plenty of shrines in the area; you’ll be busy.”

Link gave them both a small smile and nodded, then waved, turned, and went into the stable, pulling his hood down around his neck as a courtesy. The stablemaster was yawning, clearly ready to fall asleep, and Link smiled apologetically as he plodded in.

“Hour’s late,” the man mumbled, though he gave Link a kind smile. “Got held up on the road?”

Link grimaced at the thought of the wasted time, trying not to contemplate too closely all the monsters that were already back on the path, and nodded. He set the Sheikah Slate on the counter between them, tapped around, and listened to Zelda’s voice say for him, _“I’d like a bed for the night, please.”_

The stablemaster’s eyebrows rose, squinting at the tablet between them, and then seemed to accept it and said, “Twenty rupees, thirty if you want a meal too, but you can use the cooking pot whenever, long as you clean it up after.”

Link gave him a tired smile and offered a red rupee, which the man took with a nod and a small smile, gesturing to the row of mostly-unoccupied beds lining the back wall. Link stepped back, relieved at the relatively painless transaction, and dropped down to sit by one of the other walls and take a few roasted mushrooms out of his pack to eat before he fell asleep; Daruk would pester him if he didn’t eat.

He was nearly finished, dozing where he sat, when a commotion from outside made him drop what was left and rise to his feet, hand going to the stolen sword on his back. The stablemaster tensed at his reaction, starting to turn, but before either of them could investigate, someone came stumbling in, tripping over the threshold and hitting the ground.

Link let go of his weapon and knelt beside them, looking him over. The man pushed himself upright, still panting heavily, and Link fumbled for his Sheikah Slate.

 _“Do you need help?”_ Zelda asked for him.

“There weren’t any monsters and then there were!” the man babbled, not appearing to notice the slate at all. “It’s been so long since the last blood moon, we were sure it’d be- well, and we know how to avoid them, obviously, but we just, we were taken by surprise.”

 _“Everything is going to be alright,”_ Link tapped out, reaching without thinking to cover the man’s hand with the one not occupied with the slate. _“Do you need help?”_

The man was starting to catch his breath now, but his eyes were still wide with fear. “I was- my name is Sesami, I was traveling with friends, but we- we got separated when the monsters, they just came out of _nowhere-”_

Link’s stomach roiled with nausea and guilt, but he just nodded. For the first time, Sesami focused on him.

“You’re a swordsman, aren’t you?” he asked, almost begging. Link nodded. “Can you find them? I’m useless in a fight, I ran as fast as I could, but my friends- Oliff, Flaxel, Canolo, Palme- they’re still out there. Around Koukot Plateau.”

 _“I promise,”_ Zelda said for Link, and without another word, Link tucked his Sheikah Slate against his hip, pulled his hood back up, and turned to walk back out the door.

Urbosa was frowning at him as he emerged. “What was that about?”

 _Apparently monsters work quickly,_ Link explained grimly, checking his map out of habit and swearing internally when he remembered he was in a blank area. _Do you know where K-o-k-o-t Plateau is? We’re looking for some missing people._

“Bleeding heart,” Revali muttered, but in a moment he was up in the air, leaving no breeze rippling in his wake. Urbosa was nodding.

“I know the way,” she agreed, and for all their teasing, the others were just as on board with helping find Sesami’s friends as Link had been.

“Take a stamina elixir, you’ve been up for hours,” Daruk said firmly, and Link didn’t even argue before taking one out and swallowing it, grimacing around the taste. Daruk chuckled at the face he made. “Guess you’ll get to clear the path again after all, eh, brother?”

Link winced, the bruises scattered over his body aching just at the thought, his muscles already sore from overuse and skin even worse. He shook himself, shrugged, and started heading back the way he came, following Urbosa as she pulled ahead. _Maybe half, but I’m not fighting that hinox again tonight._

“Take one for strength as well, when we’re closer,” Mipha said quietly. “It’ll help make up for your exhaustion.”

Link nodded, rolling his shoulders and bracing himself against the harsh stretch. _Did I used to be more resilient? Before?_

“It doesn’t matter what you used to be,” Mipha deflected. “It matters what you are now.”

Link wasn’t convinced, but he had more important things to worry about. He drew his sword when Urbosa indicated that they were close, and started to climb back up the precarious walkways again.

As if on cue, Revali came back in to land at last, shaking his feathers out with an irritable scowl.

“Four people,” he said shortly, nodding up the way. “Best hurry, they bokoblin will only enjoy themselves terrifying them for so long. One is all the way at the top, and one is on the end of the next walkway over, but the other two you should encounter on your way.”

Link nodded, making his determined way upward without any further delay.

He ran into a man first, trapped between two bokoblin that were entertaining themselves by screeching at him in turns and leaping back when he lashed out with his short blade. The wild look in his eyes told Link he knew exactly how limited his time was, but he kept his white-knuckled grip on his blade and his guard up.

Link’s first strike sliced the nearer bokoblin down its back, making it squeal in pain and rage. He sidestepped a blow from its club and knocked away an arrow from its partner, and the man saw an opening and attacked the bow-wielding bokoblin ferociously.

Without hesitation, Link parried the bokoblin’s next blow, kicked it off the walkway, and then turned and ran the other one through. A flick of his sword, and that one was falling to the rock below as well, leaving just him and the other Hylian, panting heavily.

“Goddess above, your form is _outstanding!”_ the man blurting out after just a beat, turning to Link with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen anyone fight like that, you-” He clapped his hands, startling Link into wincing. “Was it you who cleared the path earlier? I was expecting more monsters, before…” He gestured vaguely.

Link nodded, tilting his head further along the path. The man’s face grew serious.

“Yes, of course, the others- Goddess, I’m a decent fighter, but I wasn’t expecting them to swarm us quite so enthusiastically. We were _vastly_ outnumbered, and I’m the only fighter anyway…” He shook his head, starting to walk. “There are four others, I didn’t see where they went.”

Mindful of his footing, Link took out his Sheikah Slate and started tapping. His friends were trailing behind, save Revali, who was ahead, keeping an eye on the situation; they couldn’t help. The man frowned at him, and it took almost a minute for Link to finally reply, fumbling the keyboard in his impatience.

_“Three others. I was sent by Sesami. He’s at the stable.”_

It took the man a few moments to process that, but when he finally did, he sighed in relief. “Thank the Goddess, I’m glad he’s safe… Let’s hurry.”

Link nodded, tucked the slate away again, and they sped up, following the sounds of growls and yelps and monstrous squealing.

By the time they found Flaxel, all the way at the top as Revali had said, Link was so sore that he could almost feel his muscles tearing in his arms. The burned skin of his shoulder and chest felt like overstretched taffy. The sun was threatening to rise. The world had smoothed out into steel and wood, tuning out most of the murmurs of the three travelers behind him.

Oliff, to his credit, was still doggedly helping out, though his form had gone sloppy with exhaustion. When Link jerked his head, he gamely fell in beside Link, and they both went for the bokoblin trying to goad Flaxel off the platform.

Link’s broadsword had broken, but a scavenged claymore bit deeper anyway, knocking the bokoblin off its feet. He stomped on its throat, stabbed it against the ground and then pulled his sword out, whirled, and cracked the one Oliff had been occupying over the head, leaving them both panting.

“Oh, shit,” Flaxel wheezed, staring wide-eyed at the fallen monsters and scrambling away from the edge as soon as she registered that she was free. “Oh hell.” She panted for a minute, looking wildly between the group as she slowly calmed down. _“Son of a moblin-_ thanks for the save, I thought I was toast. Hylia.” She gave the group another long look. “Shit, where’s Sesami?”

“Sesami is at the stable already,” Oliff informed her kindly, running an exhausted, trembling hand over his face, wiping away sweat. Flaxel’s concern dissolved instantly into a flash of hurt followed by unchecked outrage.

“All this time?” she demanded. “That fucker’s been _lounging_ while we deal with…!” She gestured angrily at the fallen bokoblin.

“I’m sure he had a good reason,” Palme soothed. Oliff and Link exchanged a wry look. “Let’s just get to the stable, okay? I think we’re all tired.”

Canolo yawned, as if to demonstrate. Flaxel exhaled harshly, then nodded.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, deflating wearily and rubbing both hands over her face. “Yeah. Farosh above…”

Link rubbed his face tiredly, accidentally smearing monster blood across his cheeks, and then started to lead the way back, keeping his sword out and his attention on his surroundings. Oliff took the rear, doing his best to watch their back.

“God, I’m gonna be sore tomorrow,” Flaxel was complaining. “Bastards got way too many hits in.”

“It could have been much worse,” Oliff said grimly. “I’m only glad that we’re all intact.”

Link paused, assessing the road ahead, and then held out an arm to stop them from moving. Oliff started to move up, bracing himself, but Link shook his head, traded his sword for a bow, and nocked an arrow, drawing at an angle that made his shoulder scream in protest.

A few shots knocked the bokoblins across the canyon off their perches, and Link traded back with a grimace and a little roll of his shoulders, and nodded for them to keep walking. Flaxel whistled.

“You might be an even better fighter than Sesami,” Palme whispered in awe, and Link huffed out a ragged laugh despite himself.

Oliff hesitated when they reached the base of the walkway. “Am I correct in supposing that the way forward from here is clear?” Link nodded, and Oliff smiled gently at him. “Then please, allow me to take the lead. You’ve done quite enough.”

Link yawned and shrugged, but fell back for Oliff to take point, stumbling a little as he did. He tugged at his hood absently, trying to keep it on in the faint wind, and finally sheathed his sword again. He glanced back, seeing his friends taking up the rear now – Revali was missing, but Link guessed he had returned to the stable already.

He was a little more comfortable with them watching his back, and he felt himself relax, turning back to the front.

“I didn’t want to bother you too much while you were busy fighting,” Oliff said after a while, in what was almost an undertone. “But I couldn’t help but notice you have a rather interesting mark on the back of your right hand.”

Link blinked at him, then looked down at his hand. He hadn’t realized that the triforce – a faint gold, he could see now – had become noticeable to other people.

“I was thinking,” Oliff continued, looking on ahead, “that your fighting resembled the skill attributed to the hero of legend, and it’s quite astonishing. And that’s all I have to say about that.”

Link, confused and faintly unsettled, opted not to answer.

* * *

The next afternoon, Link woke up and instantly lost all desire to move ever again.

‘Sore’ was something of an understatement as to how his muscles felt; it started with stiffness that turned into a burn when he tried to stretch, and then he stood and he found that they didn’t even want to hold him up, so he fell back down as soon as he got to his feet. He stifled a hiss, and then a groan as he registered the throb of deep bruises and the shooting pain of his skin.

His head felt groggy and clouded still, and he had to resist the urge to just lay back down and fall asleep again. Setting his jaw, he stretched carefully, forcing his limbs to obey him and his tight skin to loosen, and then stumbled to his feet. A wave of dizziness threatened to put him back down, and he clenched his jaw through it and shook himself, attracting the attention of the stablemaster, who smiled at him.

“Ah, you’re up,” the man called warmly, waving him over. Link’s ears twitched at the impact of his voice, and he had to keep himself from pulling on his ears. “Sesami and his group have been telling stories, if you’re up to preen a little. They say you marked every one of them while you were at it.”

Link blinked, looking down at his hands, and found that it was true: where he had comforted Sesami, where he had pulled Oliff back from the edge, where he had ushered Palme and Canolo along and tugged Flaxel away from an arrow…

He had five new pastel marks on his hands in half a rainbow of colors, blues and oranges and greens. A smile flickered across his face, weary but warm, and a soft glow stayed in his chest even as he stumbled on his way outside.

Sesami and his friends were gathered around the cooking pot, talking up a small storm, and as soon as Link came out, Sesami noticed him, clapped, and pointed. “It’s you!”

Link pointed at himself, smiling briefly in amusement, and Sesami said accusingly,

“You never told anyone your name!”

Well, he hadn’t had time.

Just outside the stable, Link paused, scanning what he could see of the canyon, one way, then the other, then the upper levels to be safe. Satisfied there were no monsters, he grabbed his Sheikah Slate, nodded to his friends hanging around one of the stone pillars, and tapped into introductions and then, _“My name is Link.”_

Oliff nodded to himself, as if confirming a suspicion. Link avoided his gaze, sat where he could continue surveying the canyon, and started stretching with a wince, trying to work the pain and stiffness out of his overtaxed muscles. His toughened skin pulled with each movement, softening only reluctantly.

“I know sign, if that would be easier for you,” Canolo offered unexpectedly, eyes wide and focused on him. Immediately, despite himself, Link perked up; so few people besides his friends knew it. Canolo smiled a little, kicking her feet against the box she sat on. “I’m not very good, but my great-grandfather was pretty insistent, so it kind of got passed down.”

Link smiled. _I’ll keep it easy,_ he promised her, and then, _Is everyone alright?_

“Everyone is fine, thanks to you,” Canolo assured him. Link flushed involuntarily, and Canolo and Palme both laughed. “And Sesami has something for you.”

Flaxel kicked Sesami. Apparently she hadn’t completely forgiven him. Sesami rubbed his side ruefully, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of rupees, including a silver, Link noticed.

“Everyone pitched in for it as thanks,” Sesami explained, holding it out for Link to take. “I mean, it’s the least we can do, considering how screwed we’d’ve been without your help.”

Face still glowing with embarrassment, Link chose to go for his slate again for this one even as he pocketed them. _“Thank you.”_ He glanced over them, then asked Canolo, _Where are you going next?_

“Well, about that…” Canolo said hesitantly, and Link tilted his head at the others. She flushed. “Uh, he asked where we were going next.”

“Oh, we’re splitting up,” Sesami said matter-of-factly, and Link nearly rolled his eyes. “I think I might go to the Great Hyrule Forest, follow the rumors.” Link raised an eyebrow, and Sesami elaborated, suddenly enthusiastic, “They say the legendary sword is there – the sword that seals the darkness. If I got my hands on that, maybe I could actually fight.”

Link, until then still running through half-remembered stretches, froze. In his mind’s eye, he could almost see the flash of a purple hilt. An echo of a voice, too soft to hear, murmured in the back of his mind.

He was overly aware of Oliff watching him. He went back to stretching, listening to the others detail their plans in turns.

“Where are you going, Link?” Oliff asked instead of answering himself, head cocked and arms crossed. Link twisted in place, sighed in resignation as he decided his body wouldn’t be loosening up any more than that, and finally settled cross-legged by the fire.

 _I’ll explore the desert,_ he explained, smiling gratefully as Canolo echoed his words this time. _The Great Fairy in Kakariko, Cotera, said that there was one around here as well._

 _C-o-r-a?_ Canolo checked uncertainly.

 _C-o-t-e-r-a,_ Link corrected, slowing down patiently. Canolo nodded with determination, opened her mouth, then flushed and repeated the sign he’d used for ‘great fairy’. With a sympathetic smile, Link reached for his Sheikah Slate and explained, _“Great Fairy.”_

“The Great Fairy Cotera in Kakariko told him there was one here too!” Canolo blurted out, and Link gave her a grin and a nod of confirmation. She beamed back, then seemed to register his actual words. “There’s a Great Fairy in Kakariko? And you talked to them?”

Link nodded. _Hidden and hard to find, but not gone._

Palme whistled softly. “Goddess, I’d love to see a Great Fairy sometime. Maybe I’ll drop by there. I’m not really interested in running around the desert anymore.”

There was a small murmur of agreement around the circle, and Link chuckled quietly. His stomach rumbled, and Flaxel raised an eyebrow at him and gestured at the cooking pot.

“Plenty left,” she said mildly.

 _Thank you,_ Link signed sheepishly, and reached forward.


	9. Chapter 9

Eventually, Link had to break away from Sesami’s group to start running tasks – he knew today needed to be quiet, certainly, but he would never forgive himself if he didn’t get _anything_ done.

There was a man in the stable who’d offered to trade him a diamond for fifty-five rushrooms, so Link wanted to start gathering those. He needed to activate the tower nearby as well, sooner rather than later, and of course there were Koroks everywhere- and he’d seen quite a few ore nodes around…

“What’s on the list today, little brother?” Daruk asked cheerfully, and Link immediately started enthusiastically explaining, scanning the cliffs for a good place to climb up. Mipha chuckled softly.

“You seem cheerful today,” she noted, an undertone of curiosity in her voice, and Link paused to consider.

It was true. After the stress and exhaustion of yesterday, and how much he was paying for it today, he’d have expected to be in a darker mood. And indeed, he could feel an echo of that oversensitivity now, that stretched-thin and overwhelmed feeling. He slowed to a walk, never faltering in his steady scan of the area, and hummed when Mipha tilted her head quizzically.

 _I’m glad I was able to help them,_ he said at last, decisively, and picked a place to start climbing, fingers digging into the rough stone and feet scrambling for a hold. Behind him, Mipha laughed.

Daruk reached the top first without Link’s notice, grinning at him as he poked his head up, huffing and panting. “Never hold still for a moment, do you?” he murmured, and then, “They seemed mighty grateful, brother. You did a good thing, helpin’ them out.”

Link beamed at him, signing as he caught his breath; the exertion left him briefly dizzy, but it cleared up soon enough. _I’ll have to finish clearing the path again soon. That hinox can’t be good for business._

Urbosa snorted disdainfully, catching the tail end. “Under ordinary circumstances, the Gerudo guard ought to be able to handle it themselves.” She paused, and then reluctantly, “But if they’re having trouble, I suppose some help would be appreciated.”

Link gave her a small smile, brushing himself off and starting to walk. Revali fell in beside him, huffing.

“Your non-confrontational mood certainly didn’t last very long,” Revali muttered acerbically, and Link cocked an eyebrow. Revali snorted at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to show off those sword skills you used to be so well known for.”

Link faltered, expression creasing, and Revali’s expression fell into a scowl and he looked away quickly. Mipha filled in, something about her voice soothing even when very little was wrong.

Well. If one could count ‘remembering nothing about one’s own past’ as being very little, but that was just the hand Link currently held.

“You were famous for being a prodigy even before the sword of legend accepted you,” Mipha explained, eyes bright and fond. “You were beating grown men in the ring by the time you were four.”

Link hesitated, and then asked tentatively, _Who taught me?_

“Your father did,” Urbosa said unexpectedly, without looking at him. “He was a member of the royal guard. For Malon, the late queen, and then for the king following her death.”

Link swallowed, unsure how to express or process the emotions swelling up in the wake of this information. _My mother?_

“…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” And Urbosa did sound genuinely apologetic. When Link looked hopefully at Mipha, she shook her head as well, and Link deflated.

How many more things had time swallowed that Link would never know, because his memory had failed him?

If he didn’t record this somewhere, would this be lost to him too?

 _Thank you,_ he said instead, as earnest as he could, looking at Urbosa. She let out a sigh, and nodded silently.

“Your ma worked in the palace too,” Daruk said unexpectedly, and grinned when Link jumped and looked at him with more desperation than he would admit. “In the stables, I think, trained and bred the horses. She gave you your Epona, and a better-trained mare I’d never seen anywhere.”

 _Epona,_ Link mouthed to himself, and then, fingerspelling, _E-p-o-n-a,_ and then, in a flash of intuition, signed something like _e-pony._

Daruk laughed out loud. “Yeah, that’s the sign. Always thought it was real clever. She was trained with sign, too, I saw you use it with her a couple times.”

Link beamed hard enough to make his cheeks ache with his arms and legs.

* * *

From the top of the tower, Link could see what he guessed could only be a Divine Beast – an enormous machine shaped like a camel, laboriously pacing circles in the desert and kicking up a sandstorm that covered nearly a quarter of it. Even from so far away, Link could see lightning flashing in the clouds around it.

He watched it for almost thirty minutes, relishing in the quiet that blanketed the top of the tower, before finally slipping off the edge and opening his paraglider. He dropped back to the ring of stone around the bog-muck, where his friends were waiting, and shook the dust off himself.

 _Did it have a name?_ he asked Urbosa, gesturing in the direction of the beast.

Real grief flashed across her eyes, so quick that Link almost missed it. “Vah Naboris,” she answered, no sign of her turmoil in her voice, and then, in sign, _V-N,_ her closed fist pulling down from one letter to the other in a way that denoted power.

Link echoed the sign and nodded, refraining from glancing over his shoulder, and started on the way back down to the stable. Forty rushrooms wasn’t a bad haul, considering he’d started with eleven, and he’d gotten a decent amount of good ore that Urbosa assured him he’d be able to sell in the city. That, some weapons, and a handful of darner dragonflies meant that he’d be in excellent shape to tackle the desert the next day-

Link’s thoughts stuttered to a halt as he dropped down closer to the path, close enough to see a traveler limping along the canyon road, clearly struggling to even manage that much. His stomach swooped with guilt, head turning to follow the path behind them as if to see the monsters still left.

He should have taken care of the damn hinox, overexertion be damned.

“Wait-” Urbosa started, voice sharp with suspicion, but Link wasn’t listening. He brought out his paraglider again and dropped down close enough to the traveler to catch their attention, already fumbling with the slate.

 _“Do you need help?”_ Zelda’s voice asked, calm and collected and familiar.

The traveler looked at the slate first, and Link held back a frustrated sigh, eyes already scanning the traveler automatically to find their injuries. Then their mouth spread into a vicious smile.

“That’s an interesting bit of Sheikah technology you have there,” they said, and straightened upright. Link froze, muscles going stiff and uncooperative as he rang with the notion that something was horribly wrong. It took everything he had, suddenly, not to lash out at the person in front of him.

Was Link imagining the faint taste of malice at the back of his throat?

“And an even more interesting,” they continued, taking a step toward Link, and then another when Link stepped back, “mark of the goddess you have on your hand… hero of Hylia.” Their grin widened, something wild in their eyes. “I will take your life in the name of the Yiga.”

Someone else might have been too slow seeing the sickle coming towards them to react. As it was, time slowed down for Link, his heart speeding up in the rush of battle, but he still only just twisted out of the way in time, and what would have been a neat slice across his throat turned into a vicious score down his arm. He gasped in pain, feeling hot blood well up from the wound.

It didn’t stop him from reaching for the spear strapped to his back; he didn’t know what kind of training he’d gotten as a child, but he found that his body moved exactly as he needed no matter how exhausted or painful it was.

His blood roared in his ears, his breath coming too hard for so little exertion, but Link ignored it all and sidestepped the man’s next blow to plunge the speartip into their gut, earning a hoarse shout. Ducked under another swipe of the sickle, the traveler’s vicious grin dissolving into a foul snarl, and Link _did_ taste malice and it tasted like the presence of guardians.

He stabbed again, his footwork neat and precise even as his muscles tried to tremble, and the traveler didn’t dodge in time, taking it deep into his stomach and doubling over in obvious pain. They tried to lash out with the scythe again, much weaker and slower, and Link kicked them in the chest, sending the traveler tumbling to the ground.

The man coughed harshly, gestured, and was gone in a rush of magic.

Link panted, staring at the spot where they had disappeared, struggling to understand what had just happened. Why there was blood running down his arm, and his heartbeat racing in his throat.

That had been a person.

That hadn’t been a monster, a bokoblin or a moblin or lizalfos, but a Hylian person, who had recognized him, set a trap just for him, and tried to kill him. Who had surprised him badly enough to score first blood.

Because his guard had been down. He’d been in a good mood, and his guard was down.

He tasted bile.

“Alright, little brother,” Daruk said, suddenly beside Link and startling him into lashing out with his elbow. He missed, but Daruk raised his empty hands anyway, a shadow over his eyes. “Easy, brother, let’s get you to the stable. You need to be patched up.”

“I saw you brew a hearty elixir, that will help,” Mipha added anxiously, stepping up beside Daruk and meeting Link’s wide eyes. “Take it, Link. You can always make another.”

Link swallowed and nodded halfheartedly, feeling his heart still beating a tattoo into his chest. He freed a hearty potion and drank it down, and it at least stopped the blood dripping down his elbow.

His hands were shaking, Goddess damn it. He clamped one over the wound protectively, not looking at anyone. Swallowed bile again as his stomach roiled.

 _Yiga,_ he spelled with one hand. Mipha made a soft, hurt sound.

“I didn’t think they’d find you so quickly,” she murmured, and looked down at his hand. “I… hadn’t noticed the goddess mark.”

The mark was still very faint, it was true, not nearly as noticeable as the various shades of soul paint starting to splash over his fingers and palms. But it shone in the light. Link tried to shove down the urge to cover it.

“You know the Yiga, brother,” Daruk said, with a steady calm Link latched onto. “You were told about them in Kakariko, weren’t you?” Link nodded. “And you beat them easily. You’re skilled with a blade.” Link nodded again. “Get to the stable so someone can bandage you up, little brother. Eat some food. You’ll feel better.”

Link nodded, throat thick and aching with unhappiness.

“The Yiga always show up when it’s least convenient, don’t they,” Urbosa muttered icily, and Mipha sighed.

The pleasant, proud high that had held Link up through the morning had long since dissolved by the time he reached the stable again, darkness starting to fall over the canyon. The stablemaster waved as Link approached, but his expression turned to concern as he registered the wound Link was still covering.

“Finally run out of luck?” he called out sympathetically, turning to beckon someone from deeper in the stable.

Link missed most of the ensuing conversation, but at the end of it, Oliff hurried out of the stable, brow deeply furrowed. Link shrank in on himself, head turning away as a sense of shame swept over him, but all he was met with was Mipha, silently urging him onward.

“Let me see,” Oliff said, so firmly that Link let go of the wound without thinking, keeping a wary eye on Oliff nonetheless, like he would suddenly _grin_ \- “Not as bad as it could have been- did you have an elixir on you?” Link nodded, breath short. “Good, that’s good- sit down, we need to bandage this up. I’d stitch it but unfortunately I’m no doctor.”

Link found himself being shuffled over to the cooking pot again, Oliff suddenly as fussy as a mother duck, sitting Link down and where had he gotten that roll of bandages? Why couldn’t Link stop staring at his hands like they were alien?

It wasn’t until Link was holding his arm out and Oliff was wiping the wound out, making Link hiss, that Oliff finally asked quietly, “How did _anything_ get you this badly?”

Link fumbled for the Sheikah Slate, messing with the options that popped up under the communication rune. The pressure to respond quickly seemed less at the moment, Oliff focused mostly on cleaning away sand and then on wrapping the cloth around and around, ignoring Link’s grunts of displeasure, and eventually Link replied, _“Hylian. Traveler. Ambush. Yiga clan. It was a surprise.”_

“Ah,” Oliff breathed, tying the bandage off. Link flicked his head, grimacing. “I’ve heard of the Yiga Clan. What manner of ambush, if I may ask?”

His voice was carefully neutral, almost indifferent. Link didn’t like it. His ears were starting to twitch with agitation, and he tried to shrug it off, rubbing his palms against his thighs before he reached to answer. _“From the bridge. Injured. Traveler. Ambush.”_

Urbosa had tried to warn him. She’d known something was wrong. How had she known something was wrong?

He glanced up, and found that Urbosa and Revali were watching the path on one side, Mipha and Daruk on the other. Instantly, he started to settle, relief sweeping over him.

Oblivious, Oliff hummed disapproving. “How lowly. But you of all people know that there were few bokoblin left in the canyon after last night, so why-”

 _“Hinox,”_ Link cut him off, still angry at himself for leaving that opening. There was the camp as well, and the mounted bokoblin – but the hinox was nearly unavoidable and it was the first thing he’d thought of.

Oliff hesitated. “I had rumors that there was a hinox on the bridge, but we didn’t encounter one, so we assumed that they were false. Did you…?”

Despite everything, there was a touch of awe in his voice. Link laughed weakly, reaching up to rub at his face in frustration. He hissed as the movement pulled at the gash in his arm, and then nodded.

Link tested the range of movement in his arm – it made him wince, pain shooting up his shoulder and making his breath catch, but he could move it as he needed, powering through the feeling with a will he hadn’t quite realized he possessed.

He reached for the slate again. _“I’ll handle it. Tomorrow.”_

Oliff stared at him for a moment, from his eyes to the freshly bandaged wound and back to his face, clearly trying to figure out if he was serious, and Link stared evenly back. After an eternity, Oliff covered his face and let out a weak, slightly incredulous chuckle.

“I’d offer to help,” he said, “but I think I would be more of a hindrance.”

Link shrugged, released a small bowl of food from his slate, and absently started to dig in, trying to remind himself that his friends were watching the road and he didn’t need to.

He only sort of succeeded, and spent a lot of the rest of that night by the cooking pot, running through sword forms and keeping an eye on the road.

* * *

After a night of sleep that was fitful at best, Link set out early the next morning, scarcely looking at anybody and refusing to even glance at any of the travelers he passed.

It wasn’t like him, and he knew his friends noticed, mostly because they didn’t seem to care if he overheard them talking about him. He wasn’t sure whether he appreciated or resented it, and he tried not to think too closely about it either way. He felt jittery and stretched, but he steadfastly ignored it.

“-should have told him,” Revali was saying, icy and irritable.

“The situation is fragile,” Mipha said sharply. “You know it, I know it, we’ve made significant efforts to keep it as stable as we can- perhaps it would have helped, Revali, but perhaps it wouldn’t have.”

“Is that the principle we’re planning on going with from here on out?” Revali asked acerbically. “Let’s not make any changes, for fear of making things worse for our delicate hero?”

Mipha took a deep, loud breath and let it out in a soft hiss. “I know you’re worried too, but I feel that allowing Link to handle himself is the best approach for now. We can adjust it if the situation changes.”

“It hasn’t yet been a full month,” Daruk pitched in, soft and heavy. “Let him have some time, Revali. It ain’t like you to be so impatient when it counts.”

Revali scoffed. “Some things can’t wait. We should have told him about the Yiga when he strayed so close to their headquarters.”

“Perhaps,” Urbosa inserted, cutting across the commotion. “But we didn’t.”

 _I can hear you,_ Link signed over his shoulder at last, and to his surprise, Daruk let out a hearty, warm chuckle.

“We know, little brother. No worries. Taking care of that hinox?”

Link nodded. _And the bokoblin._

“You sure you’re up for it? No one would blame you for just moving right along with that arm. Anyone passing through often probably knows what they’re up against already.”

It was worse than Daruk had probably realized; Link was so nauseous he felt like vomiting, and his head ached in a tight band around his temples. There was a faint spin to his head that hadn’t faded since he’d gotten up that morning.

Link shrugged, pulled himself up to settle on a high ledge, and drew his bow, setting his sights on the bokoblin camp below.

“Speaking of things he needs to be told…” Revali murmured, almost too soft for Link to hear.

“Too far, Revali,” Mipha said with warning, and Revali fell silent.

It took the better part of the morning for Link to deal with the bokoblin camp and the mounted bokoblin just at the end of the bridge – one of them, he noticed with some amusement, running around on foot where he’d stolen its horse – which just left the hinox sleeping on the island.

He’d reopened the wound on his arm, he could feel, and it was threatening to bleed through the bandage wrapped around it. Bruises were stacking on top of bruises, which was just the price he paid for letting himself get hit so many times. His head was starting to pound.

And there was Beedle, trudging up the bridge and stopping halfway across. Link guessed, with that backpack, there was no way he was going to be able to take an alternate route; he was probably planning to sneak by.

Not a bad plan, especially if he’d done it before, but not great either. Link glanced helplessly at his friends, wishing they could help, before just shaking himself and marching down to the hinox. That would probably catch Beedle’s attention, and he would stay back.

Goddess, Link hoped he would stay back. He really wasn’t in the mood for an argument right now.

Fortunately enough, Beedle _did_ notice him and he _did_ stay back – he also started waving Link back furiously, frantic and flailing, but that was easy enough for Link to ignore while Beedle was still so fretful about waking the hinox. Instead, Link heaved himself up onto the hinox’s belly, ignoring it as it started to stir, and plunged a rusty claymore deep into its throat.

That didn’t kill it, of course – it was far too big – but its single eye bulged open in pain, and Link took the chance to fire an arrow into it before sliding off and grabbing for another, better sword.

Mipha had coached him through most of this process – something as big as a hinox took a more systematic approach to take down by yourself, but, she assured Link, it was entirely possible if you were skilled and brave enough. His arm started to screech in pain, his bruised body protesting the impact of abandoning the hinox, but Link pushed through it, jaw clenched.

Better to take care of the hinox now than leave another opening.

By the time the hinox had stumbled to its feet, bellowing in pain, Link was already at its ankles, slicing as deeply as his arms could handle. Its legs gave out under it, and Link had to throw himself away from its slapping, heavy hands, hitting the ground hard enough to make it shake. Link hissed too, faltering as the harsh movements made his body throb and his stomach turn.

The hinox roared. Link stepped back, grimacing, and shot a fire arrow at its throat alongside the claymore still stuck there. Then a shock arrow for good measure.

With a few convulsions, the hinox fell limp, and Link contemplated just rolling it off the edge into the lake without even picking anything off it. Then, with a sigh, he strode over to it, rolled it face-up, and started untangling the trophy weapons it had tied around its neck.

He couldn’t help but tense as he heard footsteps pounding closer, but in an instant, Mipha was there, soft voice and calm tone. “It’s just Beedle, Link. You like Beedle.”

Link nodded tightly, placed each of the weapons into his Sheikah Slate, and crawled up to pry the hinox’s mouth open and pull a few promising-looking teeth, prying them out with his hunting knife.

“You know, there are easier ways to get money,” Beedle wheezed, an undercurrent of shock and awe to his voice. Link shrugged, tucked the teeth away too, and slid down to cut the hinox’s belly open.

Stomach from hinoxes, liver from moblin, the still-beating heart of bokoblin and lynels – Mipha had been very helpful in explaining what organs were best for elixirs.

 _Road’s clear,_ he signed without looking up, digging in with a grimace. The insides of monsters were so goddess-damned _slimy,_ and his arm was protesting the extra use, but he just wanted to get this _done._

Teeth and guts and toenails-

“…Sorry, what was that?” Beedle asked awkwardly. Link sighed and waved him on, but Beedle lingered, actually coming closer. “Hey- hey, is that a bandage? Looks like you’ve bled through.”

Startled, Link looked down at his arm. Indeed, the extra exertion had finally reopened the wound enough that he’d bled fully through the bandages and left a large red spot. That explained why it hurt so badly.

“I’ll show you how to change it later,” Mipha said quietly, and Link nodded.

He cut out the stomach and added it to the Sheikah Slate, then pushed himself further down to start fiddling halfheartedly with the hinox’s feet.

A few more minutes of silence passed. Beedle stayed, and no other travelers came by. Link added the hinox’s two big toenails to the slate, wiped his hands off, and looked up, cocking his head wearily.

When he met his eyes, Beedle grinned.

“I didn’t know there was anyone that could take on a hinox alone!” he chirped cheerfully, apparently recovered from his surprise. Link shrugged, making his arm burn, and Beedle barged on. “It’s a real treat meeting you here, the route through Gerudo Canyon always has so many monsters-”

Despite himself, Link smiled faintly, picked at his slate a little, and came up with, _“The road is clear.”_

There was a split second’s pause, and then Beedle grinned. His eyes flickered to Link’s bandaged arm, so quickly Link almost could have missed it.

“Wowie!” Beedle declared instead, doing a little jig in place. “We must be bound by fate! Oh, but not too bound- wouldn’t dream of stopping either of our travels.”

Link could see just a flash of the green in the palm of Beedle’s hand – was it a few shades darker than it had been before? He rolled his shoulders, hissing at the ache and pull, and climbed to his feet, forcing himself not to sway as his head spun. Then he nodded down the road and started the work of rolling the hinox off into the water. No reason to frighten anyone.

Beedle still didn’t take the hint, waiting around for Link to finish. Without turning to face him, Link frowned a little.

“Why don’t you just go with him, little brother?” Daruk encouraged quietly, leaning down as if to keep their conversation private. “He seems the patient type, might keep waiting around here all day if you don’t.”

Link snorted and flicked his head, dismissing the idea, but turned and started to walk with Beedle, glancing back over the road to make sure they weren’t being followed. He didn’t miss the way Beedle cast fleeting looks at the remains of the bokoblin they passed by, but for some reason the man didn’t comment.

“I’ll walk ahead,” Urbosa said, after a while of watching him with an inscrutable expression. “I expect I’m best able to identify members of the Yiga in disguise. As Revali mentioned, their headquarters are quite close to here.”

Link gave her a grateful nod, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders, and she strode on ahead while Daruk and Revali fell back. Mipha stayed close, casting quick, worried looks at his arm, her hands twitching up every so often as if to touch it.

“So, arrows!” Beedle said brightly, when they’d been quiet for so long that they’d nearly reached the stable. “I brought about forty, if that’s good. Same trade as last time, arrows for monster parts?”

Link cast him a weary smile, nodding without hesitation. _I’ve got two dozen bokoblin horns, a dozen fangs, eight bokoblin hearts, two moblin livers, and seven moblin horns. I can go up or down if you need._

He actually had a bit more, but he’d picked up at Outskirt that magic-dense monster parts, like gems, were more of a specialty item than something bought or sold by casual merchants.

“Looks like you’re the one turning a profit here,” Beedle teased, like he didn’t sell the parts for twice what he paid Link for them. “It’s good to have another monster hunter ‘round, though. Parts are always pretty thin on the ground.”

Link raised his eyebrows, half his attention occupied trying to do math in his head. The blood moons should be keeping people fairly well supplied, with such reliable places to find concentrations of monsters-

“Even people skilled with a sword don’t usually have it in them to kill more than a bokoblin or two,” Beedle explained, correctly interpreting Link’s expression, to his surprise. “At this rate, I’m going to have to reduce the price I sell monster parts at!”

He didn’t seem too upset about it, but Link apologized anyway, a swift and simple sign. Beedle laughed.

“No worries, friend! It’s amazing. You should’ve seen the face of the first doctor I ran into when I told her I had two dozen bokoblin horns for her.”

Link’s mouth opened, and Mipha inserted gently, “Most monster parts go to doctors to make elixirs, especially the more powerful ones – lynel hearts, hinox stomachs. The magical healing properties are invaluable.”

Oh. Link hadn’t realized that.

He gave Mipha a small, pleased smile, and she grinned warmly back, eyes sparkling with delight. Then, finally, he flicked through his Sheikah Slate with grimy hands and asked, _“Are you stopping at? Gerudo Canyon. Stable.”_

“I was gonna continue on to Kara Kara Bazaar and stop at the stable on my way back!” Beedle said cheerfully. “I’d love to go into the city itself-” Urbosa snorted derisively. “-but that’s not allowed.”

Link glanced at Urbosa in question. Urbosa flicked her hand, dismissing him.

 _“I’ll go with you,”_ Link said, then tucked the slate away with finality. Beedle grinned at him, seeming genuinely delighted.

“Fantastic! We can trade at the stable, get you well supplied for the road there?”

Link chuckled softly, nodding.

“And we can rebandage your arm,” Beedle added casually. “Maybe use one of those fancy monster parts for an elixir of your own! I’ve got some lizards on me that should be good for it.”

Link clicked his tongue a few times, quiet and dismissive, but Mipha cleared her throat pointedly, and he sighed and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some points of clarity-
> 
> I wrote the entirety of this chapter before starting AOC, so all of the backstory stuff is shit I just made up. There'll be more to come, including a handful of memories that aren't canon to the game, because I like giving Link extra memories.
> 
> Yiga encounters are actually Impa-locked, which is the term my datefriend and I came up with after we both (coincidentally, believe it or not) did an out-of-order game run where we did a bunch of shit without completing the conversation with Imp. (Other Impa-locked things include getting the camera, the guardian dragons aside from malice-encrusted Naydra, and, I believe, Robbie.) For fairly obvious reasons none of these will be applying in this fic.
> 
> I'll be bending the rules of Gerudo Town a little; it'll be explained next chapter.
> 
> And finally, since there was more confusion about this than I intended: yes, the Champions are dead. On a subconscious level, Link is aware of this, but he's not letting himself know it. You can think of it as almost a repressed memory, except it's knowledge.


	10. Chapter 10

Link and Beedle parted ways at the bazaar, and for a few minutes, Link just watched Beedle walk away and start to barter with some of the merchants sat around the pool. At least he wasn’t panting and sweating in the heat of the sun anymore; the chilly elixir Link had basically forced him to take should last him the rest of the day.

Traditionally, this was when Link would start to go around and talk to the people in town, seeing what they knew and what stories they had to tell. He could already hear Zelda’s voice running through the familiar routine for him.

_I’m an adventurer, I like to meet people._

_What brings you here?_

_Do you have any interesting stories about the area?_

_Do you need help?_

But now Link couldn’t stop thinking about the Yiga who had set the trap for him, and found himself just sitting at the edge of the pool, dangling on foot in and rubbing the back of his right hand, covering up the mark there. It gave his stomach time to settle too, the ache of his head fading from a harsh throb to a faint pulse and his dizziness receding.

He should probably try to rest soon. Properly rest.

After a long time, Urbosa finally gave a heavy sigh and sat beside him, her feet dipping into the water.

 _Pull your hood up,_ she directed, her voice so firm that Link was doing it almost before he’d realized she’d spoken. _Take the gloves from your doublet, put them on. Take your bandana, wrap as much of the Sheikah Slate in it as you can without making it unusable._

Link followed her instructions, and was startled to realize when he was finished that she’d effectively covered almost every distinguishing feature that could mark him out as- well. As a person of interest.

He looked up at her, relieved… and for the first time, he noticed just a few wisps of vivid green on her, little brushes around her neck and ears.

Instead of commenting, he said, _Thank you._ And then, _What did Beedle mean, he can’t enter Gerudo Town?_

Urbosa huffed a soft snort. _What you do and do not remember continues to be unpredictable. V-o-e, men, cannot enter Gerudo Town; it is forbidden, as a place of security for v-a-i of all kinds._

Link deflated, disappointed. He supposed this would be as far as he would go.

Unexpectedly, Urbosa gave him a minute smile.

 _You’re young enough that you’re not yet a voe,_ she clarified. _You are a v-i-n, a child. If you act a fool you’ll be expelled all the same, but you’ve never done so before and I doubt you’ll do so now._

Link smiled shyly at Urbosa, not expecting such a declaration of implied trust after how terrible he’d been of late. She rolled her eyes, a wisp of fondness passing across her face, and he asked, _What about Revali and Daruk?_

 _They’ll be staying here, out of respect for the rules,_ Urbosa explained, casting an unheeded warning glance back. _Mipha and I will be accompanying you._

 _I thought you didn’t like populated areas?_ Link questioned curiously, and Urbosa tossed her head with a put-upon sigh.

_Revali is correct. We cannot continue to be as gentle as we have been._

Link didn’t ask any further questions, instead standing up, tugging lightly at his hood, and looking around. He hesitated, and Urbosa picked up on it seemingly without difficulty.

“There are no Yiga here, Link,” she said firmly. “And if there were, that is why there is a guard stationed here as well.”

Link glanced over at said guard, relaxed a little, and nodded. _Guardians?_

“There were never any guardians permitted in Gerudo Desert,” Urbosa said with certainty, and Link let out a soft sigh of relief. Then he started to explore the bazaar.

He passed out a few more chilly elixirs as needed, listened to a few people chatter excitedly about sandstorms, and sat beside a Gerudo woman named Rhondson as she talked about tailoring for a while, and more specifically her frustrating lack of success with it.

“Of course, it’s probably of no help that Vilia was here before I was,” she was saying regretfully. Link made a vague, curious gesture, and Rhondson shrugged. “She’s a Gerudo tailor as well, quite skilled at picking out colors and styles to suit different bodies. You might find her interesting to talk to, I suppose – she lives over that way…” She gestured. “But spends a lot of time on the roof watching Vah Naboris these days, especially in the evenings. You might find her there.”

Link nodded gratefully, and sat and listened to Rhondson talk for a little while longer – she was thinking about traveling, she told him, but wasn’t the wandering type and had nowhere in particular to go.

“I have no idea how he gets people to tell him these things,” Revali muttered, leaning against the wall with his wings crossed.

“It’s because he’s _likable,_ Revali,” Urbosa sniped back.

“I think the technical term in this case is charismatic,” Mipha supplied, smiling with a sparkling sort of pride. “It’s good to see he hasn’t lost that.”

Link felt himself smile a little more, bid Rhondson farewell, and went to seek out Vilia. It was nearly sunset now, the area starting to cool off pleasantly – a relief against his faintly feverish skin – but he hadn’t seen anyone climb down and it was worth a try.

Vilia startled a little when he climbed up onto the roof, turning away from where she was sat on the edge watching Naboris to look at him. Most of her face was covered in a soft cloth veil, but Link could see her thick eyebrows and intense scarlet eyes, and just a touch of a stubble-stroked jawline before her veil moved to cover it. Her scarlet hair swept loosely around her arms.

Link waved, sitting himself down a comfortable distance away from her, a little further than normal in deference to her guarded posture. He started to tap at his Sheikah Slate, but after a moment, Vilia waved for his attention. He looked up in question, reaching up to brush sweaty hair out of his face.

 _I saw you using sign down there,_ Vilia said, to his surprise. Her gestures were slow and halting, but clear, and he felt himself smile in delight. _Is this how you like to communicate?_

He nodded quickly, tucking the slate away as if she would somehow banish her knowledge from existence if he was too slow. _Yes, thank you. I like to meet people, and Rhondson said you might have an interesting story to tell. Do you mind?_

Vilia’s eyebrows raised, though she looked interested. _I don’t know. What kind of story?_

 _Anything,_ Link assured her earnestly. _Whatever you feel like. I like stories._

She was starting to look charmed, and a little bit amused as well. She tapped her knee for a moment, making soft ‘hm’ sounds, and then finally signed, _I am half-Gerudo. You may have noticed. My grandfather was too young to have served in the Hylian army one hundred years ago. If he’d had time, he would have._

Link nodded along, a pleased sort of warmth spreading through him that came with being trusted with others’ stories. He wondered if he’d known this man once, or perhaps his father; it was an odd, startling thought.

 _The man who taught him to use a sword used mainly sign language,_ Vilia continued, slow and careful. _My grandfather respected him a lot. For this reason he taught all his children sign, and all his grandchildren. Some of my best memories with that man are learning sign with him. It is happy to use it again._

Link smiled, brighter than he had in what felt like weeks. _Glad to help,_ he signed warmly. _Did he teach you to use a sword as well?_

 _He tried,_ Vilia said ruefully. _I never fought well. We quickly learned that I preferred homemaker activities. I like to sew best, but sometimes I cook for the inn. But I am okay with a knife._

 _R said you are a tailor,_ Link supplied with interest. Vilia’s eyes crinkled in a smile, and she nodded. _Did you make your own clothes? I like them._

 _I did,_ she confirmed with clear pride. _I have been making my own clothes for years. I could make something for you too._

That was fair; Link rarely met a merchant who didn’t offer to trade at least once during a conversation. He found himself glancing over her outfit with interest, and found himself focusing on her hands, lightly brushed over with a few splashes and smears of soul paint up to her wrists and forearms.

She wasn’t quite wearing gloves. But her outfit-

It covered the backs of her hands.

Vilia, of course, noticed him looking. _I make masculine clothes too,_ she assured him, laughing quietly.

Link hesitated.

 _I like what you’re wearing now,_ he admitted haltingly.

Vilia raised her eyebrows, her forehead creasing, though her veil kept her expression largely unreadable. _You don’t need a disguise to get into the city. You seem young._

 _I know,_ Link assured her, hesitated, and then admitted in slower motions, _But I don’t really want to appear myself right now. And I really do like it._

Her expression softened. _I could make you something, of course, for a fair price. I’ve been saving up for a pair of amber earrings and don’t have the materials to trade, so perhaps-_

 _How much do you need?_ Link interrupted, leaning forward a little. Vilia blinked, taken aback.

 _I’d need ten pieces to trade,_ she said after a moment. Link smiled.

 _Done,_ he said without hesitation. Vilia stared at him for a while.

 _Are you sure?_ she asked.

 _I travel a lot,_ he assured her. _Amber is easy to find, and I have twenty on hand. Not many merchants can buy gems._

Her eyes crinkled at the corners again. _Then let’s get you measured for a pretty vai outfit._

* * *

 _I need to ask now,_ Vilia signed, when they were inside her tent and he’d given her the amber he’d promised. _Are you deaf?_ Link shook his head, and she nodded thoughtfully. _That is helpful. I will be able to talk to you while I measure. Do you mind?_ Link shook his head, smiling slightly.

“Excellent,” Vilia murmured, voice soft in a way that didn’t quite hide the richness of her voice. She started to busy herself around the tent, picking out cloth and measuring tape and scissors and putting them all along a table save the tape. “Please undress as much as you’re comfortable with; your current clothing is a little too loose for good measurements.”

Link hesitated, feeling his face heat up self-consciously, and Vilia glanced over expectantly. When she saw him blushing, she chuckled, a sympathetic glimmer in her eyes.

“Sirwals, the pants I’m wearing, are very loose. I will only need close measurements from your waist and calves.”

Link smiled in relief, and discarded just his hood and his shirt, biting his cheek at the pull of sore muscles and his bandaged arm. Vilia’s smile disappeared, obvious even with just her eyes visible, and Link’s did too, looking down at himself anxiously.

Ah. His bruises had turned rather colorful in the hours and days since he’d gotten them, obvious even through the discoloration from the scarring. Just looking at them made him wince.

“I suppose that sword isn’t just for show,” Vilia said eventually, busying herself. “That’s quite an impressive set of muscles you have.”

Link turned pink again. Vilia laughed.

“See, this is why you are still allowed in Gerudo Town,” she said fondly, finally turning to start to measure him. “In many of the most important ways, you are still a child. Trust no one who comes onto you while you are there, little vin.”

Link hummed agreeably, starting to relax again, and a few minutes passed in quiet as Vilia stretched the measuring tape and made notes, taking special care around the bandage on his arm. When she reached Link’s hands, she paused, and despite himself he stiffened.

“Ah,” Vilia said softly, her hand gripping his wrist with a gentle, loose hold, examining the unmistakable mark of the goddess’ blessing. “I assume you want to keep this covered?”

Link nodded, feeling his face color with something closer to shame than embarrassment. When Vilia moved her hand, they both discovered that the skin underneath had been dyed a stained-glass burgundy. Vilia went still, and Link held his breath.

Vilia turned her hand over, examining where somewhat paler brushstrokes of green had been left on her fingers, and then looked back at his arm with new eyes, which he could see crinkle in another soft smile.

“I’m in good company, it seems,” she murmured, “but all the same, come see me again before you leave the desert. It is always a shame to lose such a connection.”

Link relaxed entirely, smiled at her, and nodded, moving just enough to sign, _Promise._

* * *

Vilia promised Link she’d finish the clothes sometime the next day, so he left for the night and met his friends at the pool again, warmer and happier than he’d have thought possible that morning.

Revali noticed.

“I’ve never understood how someone can be so cheered up simply by spending a few hours meeting people,” he muttered, and without thinking, Link signed back,

_Some people like talking to others, peacock._

Revali snorted. “Rich coming from you,” he scoffed, and Link faltered, read his expression, and relaxed, rolling his eyes.

(Rito couldn’t even _use_ sign, their fingers markedly short of adequately dexterous for it. Link wondered when Revali had learnt it.)

Link sat down, kicking his feet into the water contentedly. He’d have to change the bandages on his arm soon, and his continuing nausea meant he’d be squirming out of supper tonight, but he found that despite everything he was now almost excited for the rest of his time in the desert. He turned to Urbosa.

 _Do you have any idea where the shrines in the area might be?_ he asked her.

She leaned back on her arms, sighed heavily, and then nodded. “I know of a few- some for certain, some that are only legends with the potential to be useful-”

It was almost like she’d prepared for this, or perhaps had done it before; she listed them off one by one, deceptively apathetic, and waited for Link to note each one down in his slate before moving on. Some of them, like the labyrinth, Link thought might be liable to take all day; others could be grouped in together. He made notes where he could, nodding along, and something about the interaction seemed to calm Urbosa.

The moon was high in the sky when Link finally checked into the inn, and he had to keep very quiet to avoid disturbing anyone. It wasn’t exactly a burden; Link was exhausted, heading pounding again, his body paying him back for his poor sleep the night before and the day’s harsh exertion, and he wanted to rest.

Unfortunately, his body had other ideas.

His mind refused to settle. Every position he tried to lay in aggravated a bruise or a scratch or the deep wound in his arm. He could hear every sound inside the inn and outside of it. He wanted to move, his exhaustion be damned. He wanted to open his eyes and check the door and the other beds. He wanted to check on Beedle and Vilia, to see what Vilia was going to do with the soft blue cloth he’d seen her rolling out.

Mipha sat beside him after a while, murmuring soft nonsense words, and Link tried his best to at least appear to settle for her sake. He found a position that didn’t hurt too much, forced his breath to deepen, and waited.

“There we are, easy does it, everything is okay, you’re safe here,” Mipha was murmuring, an endless stream of quiet reassurances that made it easier for Link to at least lay still even as they blended together.

He could heard animals scurrying outside, seals squawking, a few people pacing the bazaar and the water burbling softly-

“So, you seem to have had a mighty change of heart lately,” Daruk said casually, from somewhere partway across the inn. “Now, I don’t want to argue when a volcano decides to stop rumbling, but…”

Urbosa huffed, revealing who Daruk was speaking to. “Is it really so hard to believe I’ve just decided to have mercy on a friend? He marked me too, you know. I am not immune.”

“It was the Central Tower thing, wasn’t it?” Daruk said sympathetically, not fooled for a moment. “Hell of a show of devotion for someone he’s barely got a wisp of a memory of.”

There was a heavy, stifling silence, and finally, Urbosa gave in.

“I was… relieved to realize that he had not stopped caring for Zelda after all,” she muttered grudgingly. “He is, I must admit, doing the best he feels he can for now, and…” She sighed heavily. The next words sounded like they almost pained her to say. “It is clear that he feels nearly as much pain from his own inaction as I do. I… assume it was not a decision he made lightly.”

“That boy never makes a decision lightly,” Daruk said quietly. “Probably not even as a little pebble, I imagine. If nothing else, Urbosa, you can count on him returning when he promised. He said fall, he means fall.”

Urbosa grunted. “But I don’t know if Zelda will last that long,” she snapped, undeniably bitter. “Every goddess-damned wasted minute could be…” She cut herself off before her voice could raise too loud, quivering with feeling.

“She’s lasted this long,” Revali said unexpectedly. “And she knows help is coming. She will hold out… no matter the cost.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Mipha gradually transitioned from murmuring comforting words to humming a soothing, almost familiar melody that somehow melted the tension right out of Link, probably giving him right away, if Mipha had ever been deceived in the first place.

Eventually, without realizing it, Link fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting for y'all to meet Vilia for so long, you guys have no idea. She's not important, exactly, I just love her.
> 
> I'd like to clarify at this point that I didn't pull BOTW Link being young outta my ass - he's canonically too young to drink, young enough that that's obvious at a glance, and everywhere but the US that's going to make him some form of teenager.
> 
> Finally, half-Gerudo Vilia and the Gerudo mechanics I'm using: Gerudo here can have either uteruses (uteri?) or testes, but they have zero sexual dimorphism, making them female-only. This isn't plot-relevant in any way, but it's fun worldbuilding. (This makes Vilia's gender identity really interesting too - is she trans or does she simply look more masculine than a typical Gerudo? - but I digress.)
> 
> Obviously Revali and Daruk could enter the town without any real consequences, but like, that would be rude. On that note, I've also added the 'Nonbinary Link' tag, sorry not sorry. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and that the slight diversions from canon aren't too distracting! <3


	11. Chapter 11

Vilia had finished Link’s clothes by noon the next day, and spent close to twenty minutes cooing over how cute he looked after he changed into them. He spun around a couple times, marveling at how the silken cloth felt against his skin, and then clapped happily. He even hummed a bit, a little echo of Vilia’s voice.

“Now, if you go into Gerudo Town dressed like that, most of them will take your word for it,” Vilia warned, checking over the fit one last time. “Are you okay with that?”

It took Link a moment to understand her meaning, but then it clicked. He considered for a moment, and then hummed affirmatively, unbothered.

“That’s the spirit,” Vilia sighed happily. “Goodness, I wish there were more people like you… Go have fun, little vin, you’re going to love Gerudo Town.”

Link beamed at her, signed thank you a few more times, and then turned and darted out the door. The others were gathered at the side of the pool again, and Link skidded into place to gauge their reactions.

Mipha immediately blushed a faint pink, fingers rising to her lips as her eyes went wide. Urbosa raised her eyebrows, but nodded in absent approval. Revali scoffed quietly, looking as vaguely exasperated as he did with anything Link did.

Daruk grinned at him. “Cute as a fresh-cracked geode,” he assured Link warmly.

Link smiled, looking down at himself. The clothes were rather less than he was used to, but in the warm air it was almost comfortable save where the sun hit his scarring. Braided spun-gold thread adorned and accented nearly every part of the outfit, and little attachments like fingerless gloves at the end of his sleeves covered the backs of his hands.

When he looked back up, though, Mipha was frowning. Link’s smile fell.

“Take another elixir,” Mipha said before Link could ask what was wrong.

Right, bruises.

 _Seems like a waste,_ Link said dubiously, even as he twisted to look at one particularly dark bruise just peeking out from the sirwal. Then again, if he took another elixir it might ease his headache, and maybe he wouldn’t feel so tired.

“Elixirs are meant to be used,” Mipha reminded him gently. “And you’re never short on monster parts. Take it.”

Link swallowed an elixir down obediently, and shivered in relief as some of the bruising in his torso receded, magic rushing through his body in a tingling wave to speed the healing process. Some of his nausea settled, too, and though the headache didn’t, the dizziness did. Even his arm saw some healing, the faint ache turning into an itch, though it was difficult to say exactly how much without removing the bandage.

When he looked down, the bruising on his stomach and shoulders hadn’t disappeared, but it had faded from the stark purple splotches it had been before, almost blending in with the rough, raised skin around it.

“Revali and I’ll go scouting for shrines,” Daruk said, catching Link’s attention again. “Not a lot else we can do while you’re occupied in there, but no need for us to just hang around like louts.”

“Excuse me, I don’t believe I agreed to this,” Revali snapped at Daruk, ruffling his feathers in irritation.

“Anyway, Revali and I will go scouting for shrines,” Daruk repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching when Revali snarled at him.

Link smiled a little, nodding along. _Thank you. I’ll try not to take too long._

Daruk grunted dismissively. “You’ve always liked Gerudo Town, damn near as much as you like Zora’s Domain. Don’t worry too much. It’ll do you good to take some time to heal up.”

Link wondered wistfully whether he could maybe go to Zora’s Domain next.

It took about two hours to get from Kara Kara to town, where two guards flanked the front gate on clear high alert. A glance over revealed that Urbosa looked pleased and proud, though she didn’t greet either of them, nor did they greet her.

Link discarded the thought.

Gerudo Town was the liveliest settlement he’d found so far, up to and including Kakariko Village. A few children ran around wild, and a few people roamed from market stall to market stall, buying fruit and rice and clothes. Bright-dyed cloth hung from walls and overhead lines. There were palm trees everywhere, and fountains, running clear and sparkling; in the distance Link could see a grand staircase leading up and away, flanked by waterfalls.

It was beautiful. It was also a little bit overwhelming.

“There should be a goddess statue by the west wall, if you’d like,” Urbosa said unexpectedly, without looking at him. Link glanced at Mipha, but for once, she wasn’t looking, instead gazing wistfully at all of the vendors.

Link twitched as if to go, and waved to catch Urbosa’s eye. _I’m going to go…_ He gestured vaguely westward, and Urbosa’s brow furrowed before she looked at Mipha, snorted, and nodded.

“I’ll let her know where you went,” she allowed.

Link gratefully slipped off, climbing a staircase past a pen where someone was feeding a small collection of sand seals. The alley beyond that was quiet, another guard stationed just outside the archway, and it let some of the tension ease out of Link.

The goddess statue didn’t take much finding, but he faltered when he saw an old woman lounging next to it, contentedly reading a book. After a minute, though, she tilted her head up and met his eyes, and with a knowing smile, gestured at the statue.

Needing no further invitation, Link knelt in front of the statue, set his hands on his knees, and exhaled softly.

He prayed.

_O sworn goddess of love and light, I pray to thee, thine loyal knight; that thou might see the proof I’ve brought, that I have learned the lessons that thou taught; and grant the strength to do thine will, so I may live to serve thee still._

_It will be granted,_ the goddess murmured back, and Link’s breath hitched as the handful of spheres humming in his chest sublimated, sending a gentle wave of magic washing over him. He shivered, feeling just a little more of the weakness and exhaustion ease out of him. _Go, and bring peace to Hyrule._

Link eased back onto his heels, and finally looked at the old woman, who had gone back to reading while he’d been preoccupied. She chuckled and snapped her book shut, turning to him with eyes light with amusement at an untold joke.

“Not often we get Hylians around here, and even less that they still believe,” she said conversationally, orienting herself towards Link. “What brings you here, little vin?”

Link shrugged, going to fumble with the Sheikah Slate for a minute before he finally managed to answer, _“I’m an adventurer, I like to meet people.”_

The woman chuckled softly, tilting her head as if to examine Link better. “Name’s Muava. I don’t get along well with others, so I pass time here, keeping the goddess statue company.” She nodded at it. “That’s an interesting device you have there. Sheikah make?” Link nodded. “Is it just a voice for you, or does it have other neat tricks too?”

Link smiled a little and scooted closer, subconsciously tucking himself up against the goddess statue. He navigated through the slate’s interface for a moment, and then released two honeyed apples he’d put away some time ago, in neat little wood bowls. One of these, he offered to Muava, who laughed out loud before accepting.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said with pleasure, starting to tuck in, careless of how sticky it made her fingers. “The Sheikah are a clever people. Shame most don’t so much see it that way these days. You already been around or did you beeline for the goddess statue?” Link leaned his head into the statue. “Really? Don’t tell me you came all the way to Gerudo Town to pray.”

Link reluctantly cleaned the honey off his fingers to flick through again. There was something that looked useful under ‘self’, which went into more detail than did ‘introductions’. He tapped hesitantly on ‘overwhelmed’.

_“I’m feeling overwhelmed at the moment. During times like these I prefer places that are quiet and still, so I would appreciate help getting somewhere safe. It is difficult to absorb complex sentences right now, but I promise I will calm down within a few hours.”_

Zelda’s voice was even hushed, as if in deference to Link’s assumed state. Link thought of the cave on Mount Hylia, of hiding in the well after tackling Central Tower, and made a mental note even as he winced and shook his head at Muava, apologetic.

Muava laughed again, grating and raucous. “Still getting used to it, huh? That’s alright, I get the idea. Should calm down once the sun sets; you can stick around here until then.”

Link gave her a small smile, flicked back to ‘introductions’, and asked, _“Do you have any interesting stories about the area?”_

Muava grinned at him, a few of her teeth gone crooked with age. “Oh, do I, little vin.”

For all her claims of not getting along with others, Muava seemed happy to talk for the next few hours as the sun slowly dipped in the sky. She told Link first about the current chief, a young girl called Riju who had been recently crowned, and then the previous one, Callipe, who had been the Gerudo Champion’s sister and a good friend of Muava’s.

Muava got distracted then, talking about her own journeys outside the city – mostly, she told him, in the rainy forests of Faron – and the stories she’d used to bring back for Callipe, bound to the city by duty.

“I saw a dragon there once,” she recalled wistfully, the honeyed apple long finished off and fingers still sticky. “A massive storm-serpent flying through the air more gracefully than any bird. I may not have found Lover’s Pond, but I could never consider those years wasted. It’s only a shame I’m too old to travel now.”

At some point Urbosa and Mipha returned from the square, though Muava was so caught up in her story that she didn’t notice. Urbosa sat down across from them with a sigh, and Mipha a little closer, listening along with a small, warm smile.

“But back to Gerudo Town,” Muava said suddenly, waving one hand and then finally licking the residual honey off her fingers. “There’s a club around here you might be interested in.” Link cocked an eyebrow at her, and she chuckled. “Not that kind of club, though we have one or two of those too. Won’t serve you a drink, mind you, but maybe when you’re older.” She winked. “There’s the secret club run out of the south side of Fashion Passion. Password’s GSC-diamond, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

Link crossed his heart with a solemn smile, and then signed _thank you_ without thinking, already wondering what he’d find in there when he looked. Muava grinned at him.

“You’ve got a familiar face, little vin,” she murmured. “I wonder why.” Link faltered, and she waved a hand dismissively. “Enough about me. If you’re an adventurer yourself, you must have some interesting stories. Care to share?”

Link hesitated, considering, and then opened up his Sheikah Slate and flipped to the notes he’d been taking, a small item-by-item record of nearly everything he’d done so far. Not much, not yet, but he was pleased with what he had, and he scooted over to show Muava, who leaned over obligingly. Mipha leaned over too, visibly curious, and let out a soft _oh_ as her eyes landed on the screen.

“I hadn’t realized…” Mipha didn’t finish her thought, trailing off as she took in the writing all down the page, like a rather more organized diary.

Muava hummed as well, leaning a little closer, and chuckled. “Nothing too small to make note of, eh, vin?” She tapped the brief account of his encounters with Koko, one after the other, though he’d left out the conversation in the graveyard. “Looks like you haven’t been around much just yet.”

Link shook his head, flicking back to the communication rune to explain, _“Two weeks’ journey.”_ He added a _so-so_ motion with his hand – it had been a few days more than that, he was pretty sure.

“Ah, just starting out!” Muava exclaimed, loud enough to make Link jump. She grinned at him with only a hint of apology. “Looking for anything in particular as you go?”

Link hesitated, glancing uncomfortably away, and then shook his head before he could think too closely about it. His stomach turned briefly, and he sighed and looked up at the darkening sky.

“Is it that time already?” Muava mused, and then waved him off. “Go enjoy the town, little vin. It should have calmed down by now.”

Urbosa nodded at Link when he glanced over, so with a quick thank-you, he stood and picked his way towards the square again, taking a detour down the side street Muava had referenced before, with the club. Sure enough, one of the doors had a little, inconspicuous diamond sign beside it.

In the plaza, there were only a few people still milling about – a Goron woman marveling at one of the springs, a Hylian flitting from vendor to vendor, taking notes in a little book, a Rito negotiating with the amused-looking meat vendor. The goods laid out on the carpets had clearly been well picked-over, and the sellers lounged under their sun shades, looking satisfied.

“There’s an arrow dealer over that way,” Mipha said with unexpected enthusiasm, gesturing across the plaza. “The inn’s close to them, with a few cooking pots on the other side of the plaza, and there’s an enchanted jewelry shop just across the way, by the fruit vendor-”

Link was still looking at her, and she trailed off with some visible embarrassment.

“I haven’t been to Gerudo Town before,” she admitted. “The desert isn’t really good for Zora. It’s quite pretty.”

“I always knew you’d like it,” Urbosa informed her, amused. “It’s just a shame we didn’t get the chance before.”

Link ducked his head away from Mipha, reaching up to tug at one ear uncomfortably. Before he could be forced to come up with a reply, he nodded to the ground and went to trade for some hydromelons.

He made his way through three stalls before he reached the arrow dealer, who made a soft shushing motion before waving to her wares. Link glanced past her to the two children fast asleep under the shade, and nodded before kneeling in front of the display.

 _If you know sign, this will be easier,_ he offered. She raised her eyebrows.

 _Many of the old guard know it,_ she replied after a moment, crisp and practiced. _Are you here to buy or do you have wares to sell?_

Link had a little money by now, but not as much as he’d like. He glanced wistfully at the arrows, flicked through his slate, and said, _I don’t suppose you buy monster parts or gems._

The Gerudo had to quickly stifle a snort, glancing at the nearer child to make sure they hadn’t woken. _Not in large quantities, but the doctor will pay good coin for quality ingredients, and the jeweler is always in need of materials. I take it you’re an adventurer?_

Link nodded absently, still flicking through. _Just a few for now, then, and I’ll come back later. Ten amber for your stock of regular and ice arrows?_

 _A sound trade, little vai,_ the dealer agreed, and they made the exchange in silence.

Link stood and turned away, just realizing that Mipha and Urbosa had drifted away from him. He frowned, glancing back and forth, and found them both close to the grand staircase, focused on something at the top. When he followed them, Urbosa signed _discretion_ and then gestured upward. Link tilted his head to listen.

“I am _begging_ you, he has no other chance,” a woman was pleading, voice rough with emotion and scratchy with use. There was a sigh.

“We are eternally short on ingredients, Malena,” another voice said, not unsympathetically. “If the guard could afford to be constantly hunting monsters, we would be. But with the Yiga so active of late, no one can be spared. I’m sorry.”

“Isn’t there anything that can be done?” Malena tried, thin and helpless.

“No,” the guard said firmly. “You’ll do no good trying yourself. Molduga are best fought by experienced warriors only.” A pause, and then, more gently, “It’s late, Malena. Go to the inn, rest, and return to your voe tomorrow.”

“No,” Malena said, steely-tight. “Tomorrow I shall try again.”

Link made no sign that he had heard anything as someone stormed down the steps and swept past, though he caught sight of shoulders shaking on the verge of tears. He turned to Urbosa, the more likely to know, and asked, _Molduga?_

Urbosa snorted softly, not looking surprised in the least. She even looked very briefly fond.

“A monster sensitive to vibrations,” she supplied. “Travels mainly underground, around twice the size of a hinox… Not a difficult fight, but dangerous to the unprepared.” She paused, measuring him, and then tacked on, “There’s one west of Gerudo Town, maybe a few hours away.”

Link nodded, glancing in that direction, and Mipha intercepted him immediately. “Not tonight, Link. You look exhausted. You heard her; Malena will still be here tomorrow.”

Link sighed, but conceded reluctantly. He contemplated the inn for a long moment, but a growl of his stomach made the choice for him, and he headed for the cooking pots first.

Some stamina-restorative food would do him good. It felt like he’d been lagging harder and harder the last few days, and some honey might be easier to get down than anything heavy.

* * *

Link got halfway through the process of stretching in the morning before Mipha was frowning at him. He cocked his head, bare with the veil and headdress still set aside, and then twisted to try and coax his shoulders into loosening.

“I’m going to tell Revali and Daruk to meet us near the western entrance,” she said after a beat. “Stay here until I get back, and eat something hearty. You look awful, Link. Are you sure you don’t want to wait a day or two?”

Link twisted the other way, clenching his jaw through the stretch, and nodded. Everything in him railed against the idea of remaining idle, and the sooner he handled this, the better.

Mipha sighed, but there was a clear note of fond worry in her voice when she said, “Entirely too reckless. Urbosa, please, make sure he eats.”

Urbosa snorted. “You’re worse than a mother hen, Mipha. Yes, I’ll make sure.”

True to her word, Urbosa barely waited for Link to finish stretching and change his bandages before bullying him into eating. To appease her, Link went to the cooking pots and tossed some chickaloo nuts and some acorns in with a trickle of honey, letting them roast for a bit.

Urbosa shook her head at him. _You’re going to regret that later,_ she warned.

Link doubted it. He probably couldn’t get much else down but an elixir yet. Maybe in a few hours, if his headache finally eased.

 _At least change before you leave town,_ Urbosa said firmly. _You cannot fight a molduga in that outfit, and trust me, you don’t want to change in the desert._ Her frown deepened. _Especially not with as many sandstorms as there seem to be right now._

Link winced, but nodded reluctantly. At the inn, he changed from the Gerudo clothing back into his familiar hood and tunic, grimacing at the pull of the healing wound on his arm. When he looked over, Urbosa was frowning again. He raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head sharply. _That won’t do. Visit the jewelry shop before you leave._ At his look, she clarified, _Starlight Memories specializes in enchanted accessories. One of them should help you cope with the heat of the desert. You’ll overheat in what you’re wearing now._

Link’s mouth formed a silent _oh,_ and he nodded, tugging his hood up despite himself. He hesitated. _Should I change back?_

 _Only if you want to, but remember that Gerudo Town is well-guarded._ Urbosa’s mouth quirked in a faint smile. _Though by this point you’ve well established yourself as a vai here. I doubt that will change even if you go out as you are now._

The thought made Link smile a little, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. _I don’t mind. Starlight Memories?_

 _It should be just across the street,_ Urbosa said, and the fondness was back in her expression, soft and amused. Link liked the look on her.

This early in the morning, the population of the plaza was even more sparse than it had been the previous evening, which was a relief. He looked around until he saw a door just cracked open, with a gracefully decorated sign over it. Another Hylian sat on the steps just outside, staring wistfully through the window.

Link knocked twice on the door and then went inside, trying not to feel jumpy in his regular clothes.

There was only one person in the shop, a Gerudo woman scrubbing her hand over her forehead at a desk, and though each display case was labeled, they were all empty. He hesitated, concerned, and didn’t go the rest of the way in until Urbosa made an impatient sound at him.

The woman, presumably the owner, looked up as the door’s bell chimed gently, her face crinkled deeply with stress lines even as she sat up to brace herself.

“Sav’otta,” she said shortly, looking less than pleased to see him. “If you’re here for jewelry, you can leave. It would be wasting both our time.”

Link’s brow furrowed, puzzled, and Urbosa made the connection first, turning her head to look at the empty displays.

“Supply issues,” she said grimly, and then, to Link, “She’s too young to be old guard, but you’ve spent enough time mining that you may be able to help her.” She gestured meaningfully to Link’s slate, impatience in the flick of her fingers, and he resisted the urge to make a face at her as he reached for it.

“What on earth are you doing?” the woman grumbled, propping her head against one hand as she watched him tap through the slate. Link bit his cheek, forcing his hands to steady.

 _“Do you need help?”_ he asked at last.

The woman stared at him for a moment, and Urbosa made a silent gesture to Link and left. He faltered, wanting to go after her, and stopped himself. She’d probably gone to wait for Mipha. He thought she probably disliked being so idle.

His stomach turned, and he refocused on the woman as she sighed heavily.

“I suppose it can’t hurt,” she mumbled, and then pushed herself up again. “I’ve started to run too low on supplies to stock wares. Flint, mainly – it’s usually easy enough to get, but these days…” She shrugged, grimacing. “It’s gotten bad enough I’d need a solid boost just to start selling again.”

 _“How much?”_ Link asked. The woman visibly paused, head tilting up to focus on him with suddenly sharp eyes.

“…Ten would do for now,” she said at last. “Large chunks, mind, not the little ones that always go flying.”

Link smiled reassuringly, and then, without hesitation, counted fifteen flint shards out of his slate and set them on the table. The jeweler looked from the flint, to him, and then back, as if unable to believe her eyes, struck silent.

“…Sarqso?” she said at last, disbelievingly. Then she shook herself, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “No, I can’t take these with just a ‘sarqso’, we’ve only just met. You _did_ come here for jewelry, yes? I still have a little stock. Pick a piece, anything short of the diamond circlet. First one’s a gift, little vin.”

Link grinned at her, quick and pleased, and without even looking over, took a few minutes to tap out carefully, _“I’m going to. The desert. Can I have? Sapphire.”_

It visibly took the jeweler a few seconds to put that one together, but after a beat, she gave him a small smile and a nod. “A practical choice.” She looked him up and down for a moment, visibly considered, and then said, “I don’t typically work in a more masculine style, but if you would prefer…”

Link was already shaking his head before she finished speaking, and she chuckled.

“Ah, so that’s how it is. Give me just a minute, I’ll get one from storage and we’ll get it fitted.”

Urbosa returned with Mipha in tow while that was getting done, Link’s hood reluctantly dropped around his shoulders while Isha, as she’d introduced herself, tweaked the metal gently to and fro. Link was squirming by the third time she took it off him again, discomfited by the back-and-forth of the sapphire’s cooling effect over his fever-flushed face, and she clucked at him sympathetically.

“Almost done,” she promised distractedly, and over her shoulder, Link shot the other two a faint grimace. Mipha didn’t even notice, making eyes at the circlet on his head, and he had to keep it from easing into an amused grin. “Okay, how does that feel?”

Isha stepped back to look at him, and Link obediently tipped his head one way, then the other, getting used to the faint press of the circlet. The sapphires were already working, sending a wonderful ripple of cool air down his face and ears and all the way to his neck, which felt amazing against his hot skin. Finally, he gave Isha a smile and a nod, and she grinned back, looking relaxed for the first time since he’d come in.

“Consider that sarqso, then,” she said with clear satisfaction. She started to turn away, and Link started forward, then back – a small motion, but just enough to catch her attention. “Hm? Does the fit still need adjustment after all?”

Link shook his head, and gave the other two an apologetic glance before he went for his slate again. Mipha chuckled softly and nudged Urbosa, who rolled her eyes but went to sit with her on the steps, waiting.

 _“I have materials to trade,”_ he explained, and Isha’s eyebrows rose.

“You must have spent a decent span of time mining. Very well, let’s talk. It will be good to have an influx of materials again.”

It took close to another forty-five minutes, but eventually the two of them negotiated an agreement: every one of the gems that Link had with him – a respectable number, after two taluses and around three days of mining – for one of each of the remaining items except the diamond circlet, plus a couple hundred rupees.

Link gave the diamond circlet she’d put back on display a longing look he couldn’t quite hide, and Isha chuckled.

“Some of my finest work, yes, and a very old magic. It’s just a shame diamonds are so rare.”

Link had one diamond, from the shrine near Central Tower. The old man at Gerudo Valley Stable had promised him another for fifty-five rushrooms. He wondered anxiously if he could scrounge up another somewhere.

He would really like to have a layer of protection from guardians.

“I’ll tell you what,” Isha said, when he didn’t answer right away. “You keep this diamond, I keep the rupees, and you can come back another time if you come up with more.” Link nodded without hesitation, and she traded back with a faintly wistful look of her own. “It’ll take a few days to finish everything. Maybe a week.” Link nodded, and Isha smiled, leaning back with a sigh. “Pleasure doing business with you, little vin. Sav’orq.”

Link raised a hand in farewell, stretched with a wince as he stood, and forced himself not to sway under the head rush. Then he was out the door, satisfied with the exchange, and found Urbosa and Mipha chatting absently in sign just outside. He couldn’t help but smile, just a little, and tugged his hood up over his ears, leaving just the front gem of the circlet exposed.

“I think Revali might have a word or two for you for the wait,” Mipha said wryly when she saw him, lowering her hands. “But that looks lovely, Link. Does it work well?”

Link nodded, pleased, and tilted his head towards the western entrance. When Mipha nodded, gesturing for him to go on, he turned.

Urbosa moved with inhuman speed, going from right next to Mipha to an inch in front of him, looming and _too damn close._

He flinched back, stumbling a little as he forced down the urge to lash out defensively, and felt his stomach turn and his head throb under the surge of adrenaline. Urbosa just cocked an eyebrow at him expectantly.

Link swallowed, pushed past her, and didn’t grace her with a response.

“That was rude, Urbosa,” Mipha murmured behind him.

“Just seeing how far I can push,” she replied, with only a thin veneer of carelessness. Then, softer, “He can’t hide forever, you know.”

Mipha didn’t reply.

Revali did, in fact, have a few words for Link – enough to keep him going for almost ten minutes out into the desert before it died off into grumbles.

“I found that fairy you were looking for, by the way, owing _exclusively_ to my quite astounding ability to successively navigate sandstorms, which I would have you know is even harder in the air than on foot,” he bit out, finally attracting Link’s attention. “It’s quite deep in the southwestern desert, with a shrine right by it. So you can for once make yourself useful in more than a single way.”

Link ruefully ruffled the edge of his hood and signed a quick _thank you_ anyway, chuckling softly at the way Revali just huffed and looked away, still grumbling.

“We found a good few shrines for you to take a look at,” Daruk added cheerfully, bringing up his hands behind his head as he grinned at Link. “Later today if you’ve got the time, tomorrow if ya don’t.” He hummed. “Might start looking at the highlands in a couple days, if you’re planning on being a while. Are ya?”

Link felt tired just thinking about it, but he nodded. _I think there’s a tower around there too. I should get that._

“Now that shouldn’t be hard to find, at least,” Daruk said cheerfully, and Revali grumbled something about unpaid labor.

Link nodded mechanically, then glanced at Urbosa, who cocked an eyebrow. _What can you tell me about moldugas?_

A now-familiar shadow flickered across Urbosa’s face, and she glanced away for a split second before returning her gaze to Link. She nodded. “As I mentioned before, they sense vibrations in the sand. A single strike from a molduga can kill even an armored soldier, so you will need to use decoys. Gerudo soldiers often use voltfruit or hydromelons-”

As he listened, Link reached up to ruffle his hood again. The sapphire circlet was working well, but he still felt pretty hot, and his skin stung all the way down to the bone, unused to the desert air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: I've been thinking a lot about Link's scarring lately, so I went back and added some minor edits to a couple earlier chapters. (When I say minor, I mean minor - like, one or two sentences to two chapters.) But basically his scars hurt him a lot more now. Sorry, Link.
> 
> Like Vilia, Muava isn't especially important, but I love her anyway. I always felt so bad playing the game when she would go 'will you talk to me a while longer?' and I'm like 'I'M SORRY YOU ONLY HAVE TWO DIALOGUE OPTIONS.'
> 
> Finally: Link is worse off than he outwardly appears. This is about to become very clear to everyone.
> 
> (Psst: if this chapter ended with 'than anything heavy' rather than 'unused to the desert air', refresh the page. I changed my mind about where to split the chapter about forty-five minutes after I posted it.)


	12. Chapter 12

Urbosa was correct; the fight with the molduga, while arduous, drawn out, and a little supply-intensive, was not particularly tricky.

It probably would have been more efficient to swing a two-handed weapon into its belly, but Link wasn’t nearly confident enough in his body to try that yet. A mixture of bombs and arrows did the trick instead, a hundred wounds that soaked the sand in monster blood until the beast rolled over with a final groan and a sigh.

Mipha exhaled in relief, and Daruk hopped over to examine it, nodded decisively, and waved Link over.

“Well done, brother,” he said kindly, stepping back while Link fumbled for his knife. “Molduga are fins and brains, right, Mipha?”

“Fins and a gland in their head that is not their brain,” Mipha corrected ruefully, and then, to Link, “Get the fins and then I’ll show you where to find the right organs. There should be three or four.”

Link nodded and got to work, jaw clenched against a growing headache, and kept his movements precise as he sliced off each fin in turn, and then into the temples where Mipha directed him. The exertion of the fight and the butchering had reopened his arm again, he could feel, and it _burned,_ and the skin of his stomach and chest and _shoulders_ stretched and ached too.

It was approaching the hottest part of the afternoon by the time he finished, and he wanted nothing more than to head back. But a glance around told him he wasn’t done yet.

 _I should light the torches,_ he signed clumsily, sitting back with a wince. He had to repress the urge to reach up and rub his face; he didn’t want monster blood all over him.

“…Sorry, can you repeat that?” Mipha asked slowly, with obvious concern. Link grimaced and forced his hands to steady.

_I think this is a shrine. It has the setup of one. Let me light the torches and we’ll see what happens._

In explanation, he pointed off in the distance, about twenty minute’s jog away; two lit torches stood ready, out of place in the empty stretch of desert. And suspicious torches meant puzzles.

…Why did suspicious torches mean puzzles?

He shook himself off, winced at the scrape of cloth over skin, and grabbed his fire arrows, which would be quicker and easier than going to the lit torches over yonder way. It still took several minutes, and he missed the looks his friends exchanged behind his back as his shaking hands misfired, but when he had them, he was rewarded with a shrine.

“Well done, little fella,” Daruk murmured. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow for this one? You look like you could use a break.”

Link forgot about the monster blood, rubbed at his face, and shook his head. Without further acknowledgement, he walked into the shrine, disappearing inside wearily.

As soon as he was in the shrine, though, he sat down hard, feeling his head spin. Gulped down a couple of breaths, and rubbed at his face again. For a minute, he struggled not to vomit, and then to remember what he was doing. He lifted his head.

There was no puzzle in the shrine, just a treasure chest and a monk waiting in stasis at the end of the walkway. He blinked blearily, and then pushed himself up onto unsteady feet, going first to the treasure chest. The bow went into his slate, and he looked up to meet the eyes of Tho Kayu, staring eerie-calm back at him.

Tho Kayu beckoned. Link rose to his feet again, crossed over, and touched the stasis cube to shatter it. The monk nodded.

“You have done well to arrive at this shrine,” Tho Kayu rasped, their voice throaty and faintly doubled, indistinguishable from every other monk Link had met. “A hero rises to right the wrongs of Hyrule.” A deep and wheezing breath, and then a sigh as if of relief. “In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I bestow upon you this spirit orb.”

They held out their hand, and magic collected in their palm, forming a shining sphere for a split second before it shot into Link’s chest to hum comfortingly. He took a deep breath of his own, shivering.

“May the Goddess smile upon you,” the monk said with finality, and then dissolved away into the air like all the others.

Link sighed heavily, staring at the pedestal for a long moment. He wondered how many more monks there were, waiting for him to find them. If any of them expected him to fail.

He gave the pedestal a shallow bow of respect, and then turned and left.

The desert afternoon really was hot; it was starting to make his headache almost unbearable, a pounding band around his head that threatened to bring up bile. His skin burned where the scarring weakened it. He lifted a hand to the circlet, making sure it was still there, and absently dropped his hood. Maybe that would help.

“Put that back up,” Urbosa said sharply, as soon as he’d done that. “It’s the only thing between you and the sun.”

Link put the hood back up. Mipha was studying him.

“You don’t look well, Link,” she said bluntly, clear concern in her voice. “Let’s hurry back to the city. I think you may be done for the day. You _are_ still recovering.”

Link hissed irritably at the ground, but didn’t argue. His head was spinning persistently, and that probably wasn’t a good sign. Anyway, he needed to get the molduga innards to Malena. She would probably be relieved.

“This way,” Mipha corrected him, when he started walking, and urged him on a slightly different path. Link followed blindly, stumbling a little in the slippery sand when pain flashed up and down his left knee. “Link? Are you alright?”

His ears rang, almost blocking out Mipha’s voice. And was it getting dark?

“Yeah, you don’t look so-” Daruk started, and Link passed out before he could finish.

He woke up what felt like seconds later, maybe minutes at most, to the feeling of tingles scattered across his face and tiny fingers on his forehead. He whined softly and forced his eyes open, looking up, and the fairy in front of his face gave him a soft smile and a kiss on the nose before darting away.

“Link,” he could hear Urbosa saying in the distance, voice sharp. “Look at me, can you hear me? I need to know if you can hear me.”

Link barely managed a short nod before he rolled over, pushed himself onto one elbow, and retched weakly. Very little came up except bile, sour and painful, leaving him panting, struggling to catch his breath in the hot air.

“Heatstroke,” Urbosa said grimly, and then Mipha took over, kneeling beside Link.

“Everything is okay, Link, just listen,” she said soothingly. “Can you look at me?” Link tried, but his eyes struggled to focus, going in and out as his head spun. He let out the softest whine of frustration, barely audible. “Okay, that’s good, thank you. Sit up, please. Take your time.”

Mipha kept her voice low and calming, and Link found himself complying before he could think twice. Pushed himself upright in the sand, fingers sinking into the grain, and coughed a few times, breath threatening to wheeze.

 _I can’t breathe,_ he signed sloppily, without looking at anyone. His chest was tight; the hot air felt thin.

“You’re okay,” Mipha said firmly, nodding along to whatever Urbosa was murmuring in her ear. “Back up a little into the shrine, that will offer you some shade. Take your waterskin out when you’re ready.”

Link clapped a hand over his mouth, biting it against the wave of nausea that accompanied another of dizziness, but nodded anyway. He sat there for a few minutes, nodded again, and, painfully slow, pushed himself backward, two yards back into the shrine. His arms shook under him.

Revali had gone to keep watch at the cliff, giving Link the appearance of privacy; Urbosa watched the desert from just barely within sight. Daruk was still watching, forehead wrinkled with clear worry, and Link wished he would look away.

He couldn’t believe he’d fainted. What an _embarrassment._

His breath caught around another retch, and without meaning to, he gave Mipha a pleading look. Her focused expression softened.

“Water, Link,” she reminded gently, and Link fumbled with the slate until he could finally get it out. “That’s it. Now drink, it’ll help you cool down. There you go. Now the chu jelly from Mount Hylia, it should help act as a cold pack-”

Within ten minutes, Link had finally stopped feeling quite so awful, his breath evening out and the cool air from the circlet curling around his face and neck again. He listed against the side of the shrine, still exhausted from the whole ordeal and trying to hide how humiliated the whole thing made him feel.

From the sympathetic look on Mipha’s face, he wasn’t exactly succeeding.

“That’s good, keep drinking,” Mipha said firmly, legs crossed in front of him. Helplessly, Link swung a little more back, spilling some. He shook himself with a low sound of protest. “That’s fine, Link. We’re not far from town, we just need to cool you down a little. Are you dizzy?” Link nodded without looking at her. “Nauseous?” Nod. “Achy?” Nod. Mipha exhaled. “I wish you’d said something. How long?”

Link took a few more drinks of water to avoid answering, but when Mipha didn’t look away, he finally admitted, hands trembling despite his best efforts, _Days. Sorry._

Goddess, he _hurt._

Mipha’s breath hitched, but she held up admirably well under the confession. “Maybe a little overexertion too then. Your body must still be recovering.”

 _Sorry,_ Link repeated. He wiped his mouth and then sank his fingers into the chu jelly in his lap, kneading it gently and relishing in the cool relief. He pressed a little to his burning cheek and huffed.

“I may have underestimated your personal discipline,” Urbosa muttered, and Revali snorted loudly. “If you had even an inkling that this was the case, Revali…”

“Of course I did,” Revali snapped caustically. “His limits remain so small at the moment that I’m shocked that he hasn’t collapsed sooner. And he has been unusually productive as of late, if such a term can be applied to his recent activities.”

“Happens to the best of us, little brother,” Daruk said encouragingly, motioning for Link to drink again. He obeyed. “You did a pretty great job taking the molduga, especially if you were really feeling that bad. Sturdy as a mountain.”

Link almost smiled, turning his head to press his cheek against the shrine wall. Whatever material it was made of didn’t seem to conduct heat well, so it was cool even in the hottest part of the day.

 _Need to take the molduga guts back,_ he managed eventually, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. He started to stand and clenched his jaw as he felt his head spin unpleasantly. His legs gave out under him, forcing him back to the ground.

“Take a few more minutes,” Mipha said, more an order than a suggestion. “We’re a few hours into the desert, and it’s afternoon. There was a small oasis on the way here where you can take a break, but we need to be sure you can make it there.”

 _…OK,_ Link conceded, and ducked his head, curling around the chu jelly, willing it to work faster. _Sorry._

“It’s alright, Link. You’re doing great.” Mipha even sounded like she believed it.

Link pulled his hood further up and did his best to hide in it.

* * *

It was nearly nightfall before they bid Daruk and Revali farewell just outside Gerudo Town, and Link had to stop himself from jumping harshly when the gate guard immediately grabbed for his wrist, fingers wrapping around his pulse and scowling into his eyes.

“Heat exhaustion,” she said flatly. “Quite severe – I’m surprised you made it back here. Did you faint in the desert?” Link nodded, eyes wide and intimidated. She scowled harder. “Go see the doctor. Zayla. Do you know the way?”

Link glanced at Urbosa, who shook her head. He did the same, wincing as it made his head pound. The guard gave a put-upon sigh, and he shrank a little, mortified and still distinctly lightheaded.

“Is there a parent or mentor with you?” Link shook his head, biting his cheek painfully. “Of course not. Kohm!”

Link started, and movement soon drew his attention to the door, where another Gerudo poked her head out and cocked an expectant eyebrow. The guard nodded at him.

“Could you take this vin to the infirmary? It seems she wasn’t quite prepared for the heat of the desert, and her pulse is a touch weak.” To Link, she added, “You haven’t spoken. Can you?”

Link shook his head again, almost helplessly confused. She looked back at Kohm, who preempted her. “I’ll stay with her.”

Link looked at Mipha pleadingly, but she crossed her arms, looking unamused, and he gave in, allowing himself to be led down the streets. The guard returned to her post, and Kohm didn’t do more than shift her grip from his hand to his sleeve when she noticed his discomfort.

“That sapphire circlet should have protected you from heat exhaustion unless you went very far into the desert,” Kohm mused, glancing back at him as she steered them towards the plaza without even looking. “Isha’s craftsmanship is superb. Were you already ill?” Link shrugged. Kohm snorted. “Yes, that would do it, you silly little vin. Whoa!” She caught Link as he stumbled, his knees threatening to give out under him and swallowing down bile again. “Easy, little vin, let’s slow down. Breathe, let the nausea pass.”

He nodded, forcing himself to bite it down. Deep breaths, and after a minute he nodded again, and they kept going. Mipha’s worried gaze burned into his back, and she had to keep stopping herself from reaching for him.

The infirmary turned out to be almost right beside the communal cooking pots, and Kohm called out as soon as they entered – after a moment, he realized it had been entirely in Gerudo, but whatever she said brought the doctor out of the next room over immediately.

Zayla was an older woman, like Muava, face lined with age and pinched with worry. She looked him over quickly, head to toe, and gestured for him to sit on one of the nearby beds – or, apparently, for Kohm to push him onto one of the beds, making him huff and wince a little. Still, it was more of a relief than he’d expected to be off his feet.

Kohm said a few more things to Zayla in rapid Gerudo, who replied in kind and looked at Link.

 _Can you use sign?_ she asked him, and he nodded instantly. Zayla nodded back, looked at Kohm, and said a little more, and Kohm gave them both a nod and Link a faint, reassuring smile before she left. Zayla turned to Link. _What is your name?_

It took a few fumbling tries, his hands refusing to cooperate, but finally, he managed, _Link._

 _Kohm tells me you were sick before you went into the desert. How long?_ Her expression was weary but focused, and she kept herself oriented to face him even as she went to a few different tables, gathering things.

 _A few days,_ he admitted, and Mipha made a soft sound that drew his attention.

“Your recovery too, Link,” she said quietly, with a healer’s focus. Urbosa glanced away, leaning against the infirmary wall, lips pressed together. Link sighed, an odd feeling of defeat swooping over him, but he nodded.

 _And I’m still recovering from an injury that had me… bedbound, for a while,_ he admitted reluctantly, following Mipha’s subtle guidance, slow and deliberate so he didn’t fumble. His stomach roiled. Something itched at the back of his brain, insisting something wasn’t right. _I’ve only been walking around for a few weeks._

Zayla clicked her tongue. _What possessed you to go out in the desert in such a state?_ she scolded, not seeming to really expect an answer as she picked a few things out of her lineup – two little balls of bound white chu jelly, a small bowl of what seemed to be chilled simmered hydromelons, a large skin of water.

Link perked up, though, eyes going wide. He fumbled for his Sheikah Slate, making Zayla raise a disapproving eyebrow at him, but it disappeared into open surprise as he released one of the molduga organs from inside and into his lap.

 _For M-a-l-e-n-a,_ he explained.

Zayla remained silent for a few long moments, only just remembering to go through the motions of placing the bowl and waterskin on the table beside him and the chu jelly in his lap. She picked up the organ and weighed it in her hand, and finally murmured, rasping and unexpectedly hopeful, “Molduga tend to have three or four of these apiece. Dare I hope…?”

Link nodded, then clenched his jaw against another wave of dizziness, his stomach clenching. A hurt sound slipped out of his mouth, his carefully controlled breathing hitched despite his best efforts.

Zayla visibly shook herself, setting the molduga organ back down with care. “Heatstroke, yes,” she murmured, and then, in sign, _Eat that bowl of fruit, it should help, and drink that entire waterskin before you go to sleep- yes, I expect you to go to sleep here. From what you told me, you need food and rest. I would prefer you to stay until any nausea and dizziness have both eased._

 _Sorry for the trouble,_ Link apologized, shamefaced. Zayla waved dismissively.

 _You aren’t the first Hylian or vin to overstretch themselves while visiting, and you won’t be the last. Eat._ She paused, tilting her head as she suddenly focused on his arm, and added, _If you can eat with one hand, I’ll change your bandages as well._

Link shot Mipha a pleading look, but she just sat beside him and gestured, so Link picked up the bowl and frowned at it. He liked simmered fruit – it was generally easy to eat even when he wasn’t hungry, sweet and soft – but at the moment nothing had looked less appetizing.

“Just a little at a time, Link,” Mipha encouraged, leaning a little closer. “You’ll feel better once you have a few bites in you, and then you can take a few bites more later.”

Link took a bite, spoon in his slightly shaking left hand as Zayla worried over his right. He decided hydromelon, while not horrible, was not his favorite. Mipha laughed quietly at his expression.

“Come on, Link, it’s not that bad. You’re just not feeling well. Can you take another bite for me?”

Link did, holding himself stiff so as not to disturb Zayla’s work, and like that, got through the entire bowl, though it took close to half an hour and most of the skin of water. By the end, though, he at least wasn’t feeling so feverish, and Zayla had finished without comment and busied herself elsewhere.

“Go to sleep, Link,” Urbosa said unexpectedly, appearing behind Mipha. Her expression was softer than normal, somewhere between pensive and understanding. “The desert will still be there in the morning.”

 _But what about Malena?_ Link protested, glancing at the organ still on the side table. On a thought, he reached for it and put it back into his slate, preserving it.

“I have no doubt she will be informed soon,” Urbosa answered. “And your recovery will be quicker if you rest adequately.”

Link made a discontented sound, but laid down anyway, squirming under the covers and then pulling up his arm to sigh into the crook of his elbow.

Still at the foot of the bed, Mipha started to hum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link finally suffers the consequences of pushing himself so hard. Coming chapters will have a lot of focus on the lingering physical effects of his injuries, which have until this point been kind of glossed over. (Link woke up that way, after all.)
> 
> If you happen to be curious, I posted a oneshot, 'Make or Break (It's the End of the World)', which has a lot of detail on the injuries leading to Link's death.


	13. Chapter 13

Though Link spent most of the night drifting in and out of consciousness, waking at almost any small sound that wasn’t Mipha’s gentle melody, he didn’t properly rise until late the next morning. His body still felt heavy, his mind fogged up, but his persistent headache had reduced a little and his nausea was almost gone.

Zayla was there almost as soon as he finished sitting up, forcing another bowl of simmered fruit into his hands. Durians this time, he thought.

 _Eat this before you go anywhere,_ she ordered him. _And don’t go outside the city walls. The fountains keep Gerudo Town cool._

Link thought about the shrine just outside the front gates of the city. _What about just a little?_

 _No!_ she said crossly, and disappeared before he could protest.

Link sighed and, as both Mipha and Urbosa started laughing, decided to eat his food. It went down a little easier than it had last night.

The next thing he did was duck behind the privacy screen and change into the vai clothing he’d been wearing the first day, feeling some of the tension ease out of him with the lighter outfit and the mask. Maybe the standard Hylian outfit wasn’t much more telling, but he still felt better for the change.

Then he went to look for Malena.

Urbosa found her first, leaning against the wall just outside the training ground he’d seen the Gerudo guards using, clearly gathering herself for another attempt. She looked up sharply as he approached, and he waved.

 _“I have something for you,”_ he said with his Sheikah Slate, and then with a few taps, he released the molduga guts and offered them to her.

For a moment, her gaze was blank with incomprehension; it was likely she’d never seen the inside of a molduga before. Then realization and a slow-dawning hope sparked in her eyes, and she slowly lifted them to meet his.

“Tell me those are molduga guts,” she nearly begged, and he gave her a small smile and a nod. She all but collapsed on the spot with relief, and when she held out her hand Link didn’t hesitate to hand them over. “Sarqso, sarqso, vehvi, oh sa’oten, il piota a’ya voe ayana quorili-” He waved his hands, keeping his expression apologetic, and she took a deep breath, visibly getting a hold of herself. “My husband has a chance now; for that I cannot thank you enough, but please take this.”

She fumbled into one of her pockets and shoved a glinting gold rupee at him, which he accepted with a grateful smile hidden behind the veil. He jumped when she grasped one of his hands, squeezing it firmly.

“I must hurry home to cure him, but I will not forget your kindness, little vai,” she said firmly, and then hurried away, leaving nothing but a faint patch of lavender on his hand. For a long moment, he smiled after her, warm and pleased, curling his hand against his chest.

“All worth it in the end, Link?” Mipha asked, giving him a small, indulgent smile. He grinned brightly back and nodded. “Why don’t you return to Zayla and trade for the rest of the parts? Then you’ll have some money to spend as you explore.”

A glance at Urbosa just earned Link another nod, so he started to make his way back to the infirmary, where he discovered a small commotion – mostly in the form of a handful of guards stationed outside of it now.

He hesitated just by it, considering them, and one of them turned her head to glance at him.

“You may enter,” she said shortly, “but be aware that Chief Riju is on business here. Be respectful, little vin.”

Link nodded, and on something like instinct, sketched a small bow before going inside, followed shortly by Mipha and a suddenly interested-looking Urbosa. There were three women inside now – or rather, two women and a girl a few years younger than Link himself, dressed up regally and holding herself with care.

All of them turned to look at him when he entered, and he tilted his head. A thought bubbled up, nagging and somehow bone-deep familiar. Do you bow or kneel to a foreign leader?

Erring on the side of caution, Link dropped to one knee and lowered his head respectfully. Mipha took in a sharp breath, and he hoped he hadn’t done anything wrong.

A heartbeat passed.

“Rise,” the girl, who Link was now certain was Chief Riju, said, and when he looked up she was smiling, unmistakable delight barely held in check splashed across her face. “You’re quite a polite little Hylian vai. Are you Link?”

Link stood again, slow and unsure, and nodded. Riju looked him up and down thoughtfully, eyes lingering only briefly on his stomach, though the woman beside her pursed her lips and Zayla’s eyebrows rose.

“That certainly explains how you had the fortitude to defeat a molduga so shortly before succumbing to heatstroke,” Zayla murmured.

Confused, Link followed her gaze down, and then frowned. He supposed his Gerudo outfit did expose quite a lot of the scarring covering his skin – the mismatched burns on his shoulders, the twisted skin on his stomach, even some of the harsh splashed scarring on his knees and calves. He shrugged.

Riju cleared her throat, and Zayla fell silent.

“Zayla tells me you communicate with sign language,” she said, with a high, clear voice that betrayed only a hint of tremulous uncertainty. Link nodded. “She will act as translator, so speak as you will. Are you a monster hunter by trade?”

He hesitated for a split second, considering, and then answered, _I am a traveler, and do not have a trade. But I am good with a sword and a bow, so I try to clear monsters where I can._

Zayla relayed this faithfully, and Riju frowned in consideration.

“As you may know,” she said at last, crossing one leg over the other, “monster parts are currently in shorter supply than they were when Hyrule still thrived. But monsters themselves are more aggressive than ever, and ordinary dangers still remain.”

Her words were carefully measured, almost but not quite as if by script, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“How many parts did you harvest from the molduga?” Riju asked at last.

 _Eight fins and two more sensor glands, Chief Riju,_ he answered. Urbosa had circled around and was contemplating him thoughtfully, but only held his gaze for a few moments before returning her attention to Riju, expression softening.

Riju nodded sharply as Zayla translated. “Do you have other parts from your journey?” Link nodded. “How many?”

Link considered. _I’m not certain, but at least two hinox stomachs, four toenails, maybe a dozen moblin fangs, five livers, a few horns, two dozen lumps of chu jelly-_

“I’ll buy them all for twice the market price,” Riju interrupted, crossing her arms as if to project determination. “Agreeable?”

Link blinked, briefly taken aback, and then dipped his head respectfully. When he looked up again, Riju was smiling, bright and obviously pleased with a job well done. She tilted her head to Zayla.

“Work it out with him, please,” she chirped, loosening up just a little in her pleasure. “However much it comes to, I’ll make it good.”

Affection and something like relief colored Zayla’s expression, and she dipped her head as well. “Thank you, my chief.” She turned to Link. “Lay them out and we’ll negotiate from there.”

All in all, it was a lot easier than Link had been expecting; he released every one of the monster parts he’d stored away onto a table, a few dozen altogether, and leaned on it, faintly bemused, as Zayla counted them out and started muttering under her breath, adding up numbers.

In return for his complete stock of monster parts, Link received more than two and a half thousand rupees, which was a little overwhelming. Carefully, he spelled out _sarqso_ with his fingers, which made Zayla chuckle even as she tilted her head to consider her new stock.

 _Sarqso to you,_ she said mildly, leaning against the table. _This will keep us well-supplied with elixirs for some time._

When he glanced over, Riju was looking at Link thoughtfully. “How long are you planning on staying in Gerudo Town?” she asked, started to tap her fingers together on her lap.

 _At least a week, Chief Riju,_ he answered. _I’ve requested some jewelry from Miss Isha, so I will be here until they are finished._

“She says she will be here at least a week, and claims to have requested jewelry from Isha,” Zayla relayed, and then, to Link, _You may be waiting longer than you think. I am surprised she accepted the commission._

 _I had some flint on hand,_ Link explained. _She’s reopened now, or will be soon._

Zayla’s eyebrows rose, but Riju was already nodding. “I saw she’d opened her doors again. That should help with the commerce issues we’ve been having; people come from all over for Starlight Memories alone.” She tapped her feet a few times, hesitating, and Urbosa made an encouraging gesture, expression soft. “Am I to assume you’re going to make several trips into the desert while you’re here?” Link nodded. “I’ll buy any monster parts you retrieve for the same rate, at least for this trip. The desert is always thick with lizalfos.”

Surprised, Link gave her a small smile and dipped his head. After a moment, Riju relaxed and grinned back, eyes sparkling.

* * *

Link found himself resting a lot over the next few days. He wasn’t able to sleep much, his body and mind struggling to settle, but he would doze, or simply sit by one of the fountains or with Muava. Slowly, the fatigue and headache that had plagued him for the last week started to fade away, the wound on his arm healed, and he had to admit he felt better for the reprieve. He even started cooking properly again, storing a few meals for future consumption and participating in a cooking class he’d accidentally stumbled upon one night.

The GSC club turned out to be a small, under-the-table shop with a number of interesting enchanted garments on offer. With another Great Fairy to give tribute to, Link didn’t want to shell out for an entire set of desert armor, but he did ask to be measured for a spaulder and agreed to come back in a few days when it was done.

(The shopkeeper called him ‘little voe’ the entire time. Link didn’t think he liked that. It wasn’t his fault the vai armor was limited to the Gerudo guards.)

Mipha, of course, continued to be good company, even as Urbosa slipped away to explore the city – checking up on it, Link assumed, seeing how it was doing in her absence. Maybe visiting with old friends.

He ignored a pinch of discomfort in his stomach.

Four days after he’d collapsed in the desert, Link spent some time lingering near Danda’s market stall, smiling in amusement as her two grandchildren tried to teach him how to play marbles. Since Kalani was nine and Makure was about four, and only the older girl spoke Hylian, it wasn’t going incredibly well, and they spent more time arguing than explaining.

Mipha stifled a laugh beside him. _Do you want me to explain how to play?_ she asked, with visible sympathy.

 _Let them have their fun,_ Link dismissed, shifting to tuck his legs under him, kneeling on the stone. His slate was placed beside him within easy reach, open to the communication rune. He thought he got the general idea of it, anyway.

Danda took advantage of the break to read, a book open on her lap and glancing up only every so often to check on them. Link gave her a nod whenever she caught his eye, and in return she’d quirk her lips at him and return to her book.

Finally, Kalani managed to get an entire explanation out without being interrupted by Makure, and Link set a shooter marble just outside the chalk ring and gave it a go. Only a few tumbled out, but he still scooped them up and took another turn before passing it on. Kalani beamed at him.

“Exactly!” she cheered, her Hylian heavily accented. “See, you’re doing better than Makure.”

Makure had taken her shot and not gained any marbles from it. Link patted her back sympathetically, and chuckled softly when she took another shot anyway.

“Makure!” Kalani snapped, incensed.

That was how Link spent most of the morning, mediating between the two sisters (mostly by distracting them) and taking the time to chart out a rough route through Hyrule with Mipha’s advice. Come afternoon, he offered to make lunch and found himself waved off with the two girls still in tow; apparently Danda wasn’t ready to give up her break just yet.

Makure clung to one of his hands, chanting something enthusiastically, and Kalani flanked his other side, trying to look a little more mature.

“Makure wants to know what you’re making,” she relayed, even as she tugged him by the sleeve towards the communal cooking pots – just inside Danda’s line of sight, Link noticed.

Link laughed and shook both his hands lightly, drawing attention to the fact that they were both occupied. Kalani huffed and said something in Gerudo, and Makure sullenly let go of Link’s hand at about the same time Kalani did.

“Do you still have some honey?” Mipha suggested, giving him a fond enough smile to almost make him glow. “They probably don’t get the chance to try it very often.”

Link nodded thoughtfully, and then tapped a few things on his slate one after another. _“Courser bee honey. Raw meat. Hyrule herb. Stamella shroom. Swift carrot.”_

Sure enough, Kalani’s eyes went round, and she all but seized his arm again, pulling him towards the cooking pots. Makure protested loudly, and as soon as Kalani explained, she was tugging Link along too. A few of the Gerudo still shopping for their own lunches chuckled quietly as they passed.

Both girls pushed him down in front of the pot, and, still smiling, he got to work while Mipha settled beside him and the two girls peered avidly over his shoulders.

He cut the meat into slices as evenly as he could, and then the carrots and the mushrooms, dropping them into the buttered pot to cook. Mipha leaned against the wall and watched him wistfully.

“I never got the hang of cooking,” she admitted, and he glanced up at her with surprise. Her eyes crinkled in a smile. “Yes, you always did find that odd. But there’s always been someone else willing to cook for me, and I always had so many other things I wanted to do.”

Lost as to what he could say in return, Link just inclined his head with a small smile, reached for a spoon nearby, and started to stir the pot’s contents slowly, encouraging them to brown more evenly.

A patting on his stomach and Makure’s voice drew his attention back to the two girls.

 _“Makure!”_ Kalani hissed, sounding a lot more genuinely dismayed than she had all morning. And then, to Link, “I’m sorry, miss, Makure is rude and nosy-”

For a long moment, Link was confused, looking from Kalani and then down to Makure, who was still staring at him with large, expectant eyes, one hand pressed against… ah. Against the dark, half-melted patch of scar tissue that covered much of his torso.

Makure asked her question again, insistent. Link turned away to consider the cooking pot, and just caught Mipha’s dismayed and oddly guilty expression.

He left the food to cook for a bit, rinsed his hands off in the fountain, and then reached for his slate. _“What did they say?”_ he asked.

Kalani bit her lip, staring up at him, and then said, “She asked what, um-” She gestured to Link’s stomach, still looking uncomfortable and unsure.

Link gave her a reassuring smile, and then nodded thoughtfully and messed with his Sheikah Slate a little more to say, _“I’ll make lunch. I’ll explain. After.”_

His slate wasn’t really equipped for something like this; he’d need Danda’s help, if she was willing.

Looking almost comically dubious, Kalani relayed this to her sister, who pouted dramatically but accepted it. Feeling a little relieved, Link went back to the cooking pot, considering how to answer.

He hadn’t put too much thought into the scarring on his body yet; he’d woken up with it after all.

…But it was a little more extensive than anything Link had seen on anyone else. And he didn’t actually know the entirety of how he’d gotten it. Now that it had been forced into his attention, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

 _This is a lot of burn scars, isn’t it?_ he asked Mipha, when he had a spare moment. The girls behind him had descended into playing tic-tac-toe while they waited.

Mipha dropped her gaze and nodded. “Quite.”

He didn’t ask anything else just yet, but by the time he was done making food for everyone, he’d silently resolved to ask Mipha for details later.

In the meantime, he gathered the food into a few bowls, giving one to each girl and then taking two more himself, one of which was for Danda. He hadn’t made Mipha refuse again; it was pointless when he already knew the answer, and it just made his stomach turn with odd dread.

Danda thanked him with a nod when he handed her the bowl, and the two girls dug in enthusiastically, seemingly forgetting the previous conversation. Link ate as well, having a much easier time with it than he had in a few days, though his distraction slowed him down noticeably.

Danda noticed, too, raising an amused eyebrow.

 _Done watching them?_ she asked between bites, sign distorted a little by the utensil.

Link took a moment to answer, and then finally said instead, _Makure asked about my scars._

Danda’s expression lost all amusement, the corner of her lips turning down. _I apologize for her, she’s just a child. Was she persistent?_

Link shook his head, setting down his bowl to clarify, _I don’t mind explaining, but I would need your help, if you don’t mind._ Danda raised an eyebrow, and Link continued, _I was going to say that…_ He hesitated, considering, and then finished, _That it was soul paint for bad things that happened. Is that alright?_

Danda’s expression softened visibly, and she nodded. _That’s quite a tactful answer, thank you. Very well, I will relay your explanation. In today’s world she was going to need to learn eventually._

Link gave her a small, grateful smile, and Danda waited until the two girls had finished eating before she called for Makure’s attention and translated Link’s response into Gerudo to Makure’s wide eyes. Makure’s mouth formed a little ‘o’, and she looked over at Link and said something else. Danda inclined her head and replied, and then said to Link,

“She says she’s never seen anyone so colorful.”

Link blinked, looked down at his hands and arms, which had collected colors and marks rapidly over the last few weeks, and the little faint teal handprint on his stomach now, and laughed in quiet surprise.

He looked at Makure and nodded, a small grin stretching across his mouth.

* * *

That night, Link waited until he and Mipha were alone in the quiet infirmary before asking her if she knew how he’d gotten the scars. Her expression softened, and he was just grateful she didn’t look _sad._ She shook her head.

“Not in detail,” she said, “but I can guess from their appearance the basic source of each one, if you’d like.” Link nodded, so Mipha scooted over to sit by him and let her fingers drift just centimeters away from each scar as she talked him through it. “This entire patch on your chest and stomach was likely from a guardian beam… these on your knees, they’re from malice, you can see the splash marks where you must have fallen…”

She walked him through each one, only the very basics – the marks on his forearms where he might have caught himself in a puddle of malice, a large patch on his right shoulder and his back where she thought he’d fallen. More malice burns on his calves and one foot where his footwork must have led him astray. Another patch of melted skin on his left shoulder where a guardian beam might have clipped him. A diagonal beam across the backs of his legs, something like dripping muck down his spine.

It was a lot. Mipha didn’t say so, but Link thought that she suspected he’d gotten them all at around the same time, and that they’d hurt quite a lot before they healed. (Some days they still hurt a lot.)

It was a long time before Link fell asleep.

* * *

Zayla cleared Link to go out into the desert the next day, though she warned him to be cautious. _Be kind to yourself,_ was how she put it, but Link wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that.

 _I think I’d like to go out on my own today,_ he said abruptly, before they’d quite reached the main gate. Beside him, Mipha’s steps only faltered a little before she steadied again.

 _Are you sure?_ she asked after a moment. _You’ve only just recovered._ Again. _Don’t you think it would be safer to have company?_

Link shrugged. _I’m feeling alright,_ he insisted. _And I’m well stocked for different climates. You saw me make them._

“Let him go, Mipha,” Urbosa said unexpectedly, appearing on Mipha’s other side quickly enough that Link’s jaw clenched involuntarily. “You’re the one who said to give him time.”

Mipha bit her lip, looking uncertain, but after a moment she nodded and gave Link a small, strained smile.

“Yes, alright,” Mipha agreed quietly. “Be safe, Link. I’ll let the others know where you’ve gone.”

Link nodded distractedly, and finally went out the main gate to duck into the shrine to one side of it. He had a lot to do – a lot to catch up on – and as uncomfortably exposed as he felt right now, he’d rather do it by himself.

Daqo Chisay’s shrine didn’t take an hour for Link to complete, and he changed into his more sturdy Hylian trousers and the new spaulder inside. From there, he went around to the west side of town and followed the swordswomen, as Urbosa had suggested on the first day. The Kema Zoos shrine took him even less time than Daqo Chisay’s, but he sat inside for a while, watching Kema Zoos silently and occasionally taking a drink from his waterskin.

His Sheikah Slate called the place he’d woken up the ‘shrine of resurrection’. He wondered if he’d really died, or simply come very, very close.

He wondered if it mattered.

From Kema Zoos’ shrine, he went on to forge through the sandstorm, blindly following his shrine sensor until he stumbled upon the glowing structure. Dako Tah’s shrine took close to two hours, and then Link had another set of four orbs humming in his chest.

When he left the shrine, the sandstorm had ceased. Revali was waiting outside. Link faltered.

“Map,” the Rito demanded curtly, and Link warily opened it up and showed it to the other. Revali studied it for a moment, and then tapped the dip where blank space bit deeply into the Wasteland region. “The tower is there. As long as you aren’t truly helpless, that should be enough for you to find it.”

Link cocked his head at the Rito, finding himself unable to summon the energy for a smile. But he nodded, signing a soft _thank you._ Revali humphed.

“Don’t fall into the pit,” he said dismissively, and then took off into the air, circling up and away.

Link sat on the step of the shrine for a while after that, eating some of the food he’d saved a few days before, and then glanced down at his map and started climbing. He was able to grab some rushrooms off the wall too; he didn’t need that many more to please the old man in the Gerudo Valley stable.

He felt oddly numb, in stark contrast to how he’d felt wandering on his own the other times he’d done so, but it was a peaceful sort of mental silence. While he wasn’t sure he liked it, he was at least certain it didn’t hurt.

Revali’s odd sense of humor came to light when Link finally found the tower, rising up out of what looked like nothing more or less than a bottomless pit. Safe in his isolation, Link rolled his eyes, and then started looking for a way up.

He didn’t hear the music until he was most of the way up the tower, fingers wrapped around the metallic grating. He paused, listening for a minute, and then pulled himself the rest of the way up.

There was a Rito musician at the top, which shouldn’t have surprised him; they didn’t seem to notice Link, so Link spent a few minutes leaning against one of the columns, listening. The musician was practicing, he gathered, playing not a complete song but fractions of it, in broken pieces, each bar over and over in slightly different ways.

The Rito didn’t notice Link until he finally went to the pedestal and set the Sheikah Slate into it, downloading this region’s map. The tower lit up blue, like each of the others so far, and the Rito yelped almost comically and spun around, eyes wide.

“Oh, my,” he breathed, blinking at Link owlishly. “I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone else up here – I do apologize, I didn’t mean to ignore you.” Link shrugged. “How _did_ you get up here? Without wings, I can’t imagine…” Link gestured vaguely downward, crossing over to sit on the edge of the tower and watch the desert in the distance. “Ah.”

There were a few beats of silence, increasingly awkward, and finally, Link half-turned around and gestured again, inviting the musician to go on if he wanted.

The Rito bard was studying him. Link tried not to clench up too obviously.

He felt _very_ exposed.

“I am Kass,” the Rito said instead of accepting, voice deceptively lilting and light. “I’m… a traveling bard, you could say. My teacher once worked in Hyrule Castle itself, you know, and he taught me most of the old songs. I’ve been seeking out the rest on my own.” He paused, and his eyes flickered down briefly to Link’s hip. He added meaningfully, “He specialized in songs about the hero of the goddess.”

Link withdrew sharply, head turning away at the unspoken implication, but his interest was caught despite himself. Braced for the worst, one hand on the edge of the platform in preparation to push off and away, he returned his gaze to Kass, whose eyes gleamed with anticipation.

“I know a song about this place,” Kass added, seemingly casual. “Would you like to hear it?”

Link hesitated, studying Kass for a long moment, but finally, he nodded.

Without further pause, Kass started to play, and Link listened.

Read straight, the short song Kass performed was a moving ballad about the ancient hero’s relationship with the Gerudo and the harshness of the desert. But there was a refrain in it that caught Link’s attention.

_As light shines from the northwest skies, from the tower’s shadow an arrow flies. Pierce heaven’s light to reveal the prize._

Over and over, between each verse about the ancient hero’s journey to first best and then befriend the then-guarded neighbors of Hyrule, between metaphor and hopeful appeal, the same slightly out-of-place refrain.

Link tilted his head up to check the position of the sun, and then leaned over to look at where the tower’s shadow was falling.

A little to one side of it, there was a large shrine pedestal. He reviewed the refrain again, considered his equipment, and nodded to himself.

Finally, as the song drew to a close, he looked up at Kass and offered him a shadow of a smile. _Thank you for your help,_ he signed without thinking, and to his surprise, Kass grinned back.

“Of course,” the Rito said warmly. “Best of luck.”

Feeling oddly warm for the interaction, Link turned, grabbed for his paraglider, and sailed down towards the shrine pedestal. The shadow of the tower had nearly reached it.

Night had fallen by the time Link returned to Gerudo Town, though he’d seen Revali circling overhead twice more while he’d been out, checking on him. He’d found one more shrine before he left – tucked away in the rocks surrounded by luminous stones that had just started to glow when Link found it – changed back into the Gerudo clothing inside, and stopped by the stable just in time to catch the old man before he went to bed for the night.

He had two diamonds now. If he could find a third, then…

Well, he hoped he’d be lucky enough to find a third.

Mipha was waiting by the front gate, visibly worried, and Link faltered with the guilty temptation to slip in through a side gate instead before he shook it off and waved to her, catching her attention. The relief in her face was enough to convince him he’d made the right decision.

She ushered him inside as soon as he was within reach, looking him up and down, and he spun on his heel with a faint smile to let her see him.

Mipha laughed weakly, reaching up to fiddle with the end of her head fin. “Are you feeling better?” she blurted out, and then looked immediately apologetic.

Link nodded on instinct, then thought about it again and shrugged. He didn’t feel so numb, but maybe still a little skittish and unhappy, which wasn’t necessarily an improvement.

 _I think I’m going to go pray,_ he said instead of expanding, and Mipha smiled at him gently and dropped back to let him lead the way.

Urbosa was waiting just inside, but chose not to approach them; Link saw her nod at them as they passed, and then disappear in the direction of Kara Kara. Link turned away, let out a breath, and picked his way through the silent bazaar towards the goddess statue on the east side.

Mipha, mercifully, stayed quiet, letting Link have his space even as she stayed close by. She was a comforting presence, lending Link her silent support.

Link knelt down in front of the goddess statue and bent his head, eyes sliding shut.

_O sworn goddess of love and light, I pray to thee, thine loyal knight; that thou might see the proof I’ve brought…_

This time, even once the magic in his chest sublimated to fill his body with renewed strength, he lingered. His breath stayed deep and even, and he realized he didn’t want to rise just yet.

He wished, suddenly, that he better remembered how to pray.

 _I hope that I won’t let you down,_ he thought at last, helplessly, and for lack of anything better, he took three sprouts of safflina – yellow, pink, blue – and wove them together to set at the foot of the statue.

He stayed there for a minute longer, and then finally let out a sigh and stood. Mipha took that as the signal to stand with him.

Without a word between them, Link went to the cooking pots next and cooked something simple – a meat and mushroom stew, slow and nicely scented. Scrubbed out the pot for the next person, rinsed the cloth in the fountain beside it. Curled up against the wall and ate quietly.

It wasn’t until he was finishing up, setting his bowl on his lap, that he finally spoke.

 _I think I died a hundred years ago,_ he signed abruptly, without looking at Mipha. Mipha was tellingly silent for a long minute, and he almost thought she wasn’t going to reply.

“You came very close,” Mipha said at last, carefully. “There were decades when we weren’t sure you were ever going to wake up. But you aren’t dead, Link.”

Link folded his legs in front of him, and dropped one hand to a malice burn wrapping up his calf. He let it rest there for a minute before he answered, struggling to pull his thoughts together.

 _No,_ he agreed. _But I think the person I used to be is._

He felt oddly fragile, and he didn’t like it. Finally, Link identified the fugue that had been plaguing him all day: a massive and breathtaking grief. For the person he’d been and the life he’d had and the kingdom he’d served, lost memories and forgotten relationships and hopes.

Perhaps to call it ‘the death of the person he’d been’ was overdramatic. To Link, though, it felt too simple.

 _“Oh,”_ Mipha breathed, a soft, breathless sound of sympathetic hurt. Link stared down into his empty bowl, unable to look up. “Goddess, Link…” Mipha’s voice was thick with emotion, and it took her a moment to get a hold of herself enough to speak properly. “If it helps, Link… I don’t think that you is dead either. Gravely injured, perhaps, like yourself.” She swallowed, and pushed on without waiting for Link to look at her. “But I think you’ll find parts of him in yourself as you recover. You’ve always been quite… Quite strong.”

 _You have a lot of faith in me,_ Link said without looking. Mipha laughed wetly.

“You’ve never let me down,” she murmured in return, and finally, Link closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

He wondered if that was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link has a lot to cope with. It takes a while to understand the sheer scope of 'everything' that he lost when he died. Mipha is doing her best to help, but some of it he just has to process alone, and she has her own grieving to do too.
> 
> Kass is very sweet and I love him.


	14. Chapter 14

Given the route Urbosa said they would have to take, Link opted to meet Revali and Daruk near Kara Kara. Since they were taking a road and then going into a more secluded part of the desert, Link chose to keep the Gerudo vai clothing on; he could change later in a shrine if necessary.

“I make no promises about this first one,” Urbosa warned, glancing down at him. “Zelda shared a few stories about shrines you’d completed in the past, and it sounds of a kind, but…”

She trailed off, and Link gave an absent nod of acknowledgement, still distant and distracted. Urbosa huffed softly, leaving the topic alone.

They had to skirt far around Naboris, avoiding the lightning that crackled in the sandstorm around it. Link pretended not to see the wistful looks Urbosa shot the enormous machine, and instead checked on Daruk and Revali.

Neither of them appeared particularly bothered by the several days of separation, which was a relief; Daruk had asked after Link’s health when they first met back up, and Revali had postured a little without looking at him, but neither seemed… well, angry.

Link didn’t deserve them.

“This makes over a dozen in total, doesn’t it?” Revali was saying, arms crossed as he frowned contemplatively. “And we’ve covered less than a quarter of Hyrule. How many of these blasted things is he expected to complete? It seems… excessive.”

“Careful, Revali, you’re startin’ to sound concerned,” Daruk teased, grinning down at the other. Revali scoffed.

“Not hardly. But the more there are, the longer it will take to find them all, never mind _complete_ them.”

Link had to stop himself from apologizing, but Mipha must have caught something in his expression anyway, and she gave him a small, comforting smile. “You always liked to say that the goddess expected much of you. Perhaps this is a part of that.”

Some of the tension drained from Link’s shoulders, and he nodded, slow and still unsure. He tried not to wonder if he was a disappointment to Hylia as well.

They only ran into a few monsters out in the desert, mostly just stray lizalfos; a few times Urbosa didn’t even break in her relaying of the story of the seven swordswomen, taking her time with the narrative like a well-loved story. It was an old Gerudo legend, from back when they were still a nomadic people, and Link didn’t realize until the thought crossed his mind that that was even something he’d known of their history. But seven swordswomen, each with their own unique gifts, protecting their people through sandstorm and horde…

Urbosa finished the story before they reached the monument she was leading them too, but Link stayed quiet, attention drifting as he mulled the tale over in his mind. He played with the veil across his mouth, something like familiarity starting to itch inside his head.

He’d heard this legend before, walking this route, in different company.

Zelda, maybe? Something in his heart told him she had been enthusiastic about old legends. But did-

And then his concentration slipped, and he felt the wisps of memory slide through his fingers like so much water and dust. His shoulders slumped in defeat, his hands dropping from the veil.

Link kept his eyes on their surroundings instead, monitoring the dust clouds and camouflaged lumps that betrayed the lizalfos of the desert. Patches of hydromelons and voltfruit-bearing cacti peppered the landscape, and he stopped to pick some as he went, a little at a time.

It was still morning when they reached the monument, but only just. It was a grand construction, each figure towering far over their heads, a single stone foot larger than all of them put together. Link spent a few minutes just marveling at them, head tilted back to take them in, the worn carvings and the signs of age and the wooden scaffolds where repairs had been intended.

“Ain’t no one know beauty like a Gerudo,” Daruk said quietly, and Urbosa made a soft sound of satisfaction. Link exhaled, listening to the wind whistle over their heads and the sand shift and lizalfos squawk in the distance.

Only when he’d seen his fill did Link spend the better part of twenty minutes poking around and exploring; eventually he nodded to himself and started to move with purpose. All other worries seemed to fall away; there was just Link and his puzzle and his friends around him, waiting patiently.

Revali and Daruk were comparing notes behind him, just within Link’s hearing range; it sounded like they and the other champions had had, for the most part, very similar trials, at least outside their respective shrines. But of course, Link’s tasks were even older than theirs had been.

All told, it took an hour and a half for Link to finish putting all of the symbols in their place, and he needed Revali’s help to find some of the plates and one or two orbs. It left him sweaty and tired, but after a bit he realized he was smiling too, a pleased curl of his mouth. He rolled the last orb into place, and turned to watch the shrine rumble out of the ground.

“Well done, little brother,” Daruk laughed aloud, and Link let his smile widen into a grin that crinkled his eyes.

“Not bad,” Urbosa agreed quietly, surveying the monument with fresh, thoughtful eyes. “Go on in. We’ll be waiting for you when you finish. There’s still another shrine to visit today.”

Link nodded cheerfully, slid off the pedestal, and disappeared into the shrine without a word.

* * *

The problem came with the next shrine.

“I just need a minute,” Pokki insisted for the third time in an hour, stubbornly staying seated and leaning exhaustedly back against the shrine.

Link didn’t bother hiding his exasperation this time, and leaned back for a moment to consider her and the situation. He tapped through his Sheikah Slate and said, _“Do you need help?”_

 _Stop laughing at me,_ he signed to Mipha, as understated as he could. She just giggled harder.

Pokki moaned softly, leaning her head back against the sealed shrine door. “I just need a drink…” Before Link could do anything, she took a waterskin, drank from it, and pouted. “Water is simply not enough… I need… a Noble Pursuit…”

“Oh sa’oten, she’s _that_ Pokki,” Urbosa muttered, and then, to Link, “As an adolescent she would sneak into the Noble Canteen to wheedle alcohol out of the weaker-willed patrons, since she knew Furosa wouldn’t give her any. I must have steered her out of there by the scruff of her neck a thousand times.”

Link gave in enough to release a put-upon sigh, and then stood up, shook the sand off himself, and gave Pokki a short nod before turning and walking away.

“He’s actually doing it, isn’t he,” Revali muttered to Daruk, who just laughed loudly.

 _Wait here and let me know if she leaves on her own?_ Link requested of Revali, who snorted even as he settled on the roof.

“You would like to hope, wouldn’t you, you pushover?” he groused, crossing his legs atop the shrine. Link grunted at him, unimpressed, and looked at Urbosa.

 _I’m not going to be blocked at the door, am I?_ he asked. Urbosa’s eyes glittered.

“No, but you might have some trouble getting your hands on a Noble Pursuit,” she said. “Furosa doesn’t serve alcohol to minors, and Noble Pursuits are particularly strong. It’s not like either Mipha or I can help you.”

Link fumbled, stomach flipping like he was going to vomit. He looked away quickly, took a deep breath, and struggled for a few seconds before signing, _Yes, right, I know, yes. Stop._

He knew they couldn’t help him.

He knew they couldn’t help him.

He knew he was-

(There was something, in the back of his mind where he thought memories might live, that echoed with _terror-)_

“If we hurry we’ll make it back to Gerudo Town in the early evening,” Mipha broke into his shattered thoughts, forcing him to look up. Her small smile didn’t hide the startled worry pinching the corners of her eyes. “Perhaps we’ll even beat the night crowd, wouldn’t that be nice, Link?” She paused. “Link?”

“It’s alright, little buddy,” Daruk added gently. “Let’s just focus on now.”

Link nodded, quick and jerky, and then forcibly straightened his back. He shook his hands out, shook his head, and huffed quietly. Scrubbed his hands over his arms, and then signed, _The bar isn’t far from the barracks. Is it?_

“…No,” Urbosa said, with just a touch of remorse in her voice. “I’ll show you the way.”

He nodded again without looking at her, his breath slowly evening out. He needed to get a drink for Pokki. Pokki liked Noble Pursuits, and if he got one for her she would let him into the shrine. So he needed to go to the Gerudo Town bar, and talk to Furosa, and then work from there.

“Urbosa once gave you a fruit juice recipe that imitated a Noble Pursuit,” Mipha offered, drawing his attention. “I’m sure she could teach it to you again if you wanted. It was one of your favorites too.”

“What Link needs is some good solid rocks to help him get strong!” Daruk interrupted, clapping his hands deafening loud. “Ain’t any good rock roasts this far from the mountains, but you can find some decent snacks, brother.” Link cocked his head quizzically, and Daruk grinned at him, baring all of his chunky teeth. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you leaving those out of your diet! Trust me, you loved a good well-marbled rock back in the day.”

“I really think the fruit juice is a better idea,” Mipha insisted, voice pitching up, but as Link bent down, she let out a soft, resigned sigh. “Oh, not this again…”

Link came up with a few reasonably sized chunks of rock and held them out to Daruk, who grinned at him. “Perfect! Eat up, little brother, we’re not yet done with the day.”

Urbosa started muttering under her breath, and then laughing, rich and loud.

Link popped the first rock in his mouth and crunched, grinding his teeth against the hard stone. Could be worse.

* * *

“Oh, honey, this isn’t Hyrule,” Furosa said, as soon as Link walked in the door. “Best I can offer you is a glass of milk.”

 _Yes please,_ Link signed, letting a little bit of amusement color his face. He could still taste sand in his mouth.

Furosa raised an eyebrow, but turned away to go pour one while Link hopped up to sit at the bar, swinging his feet gently against the stool legs. Mipha sat beside him, and Urbosa leaned against the wall, watching.

Link paid ten rupees for the glass of milk, dropped the veil from his face, and allowed himself two sips before he looked up at Furosa again. _I heard you can get a Noble Pursuit here._

Furosa snorted, leaning on the bar. _Don’t make me take that back and kick you outta here. That’s three shots all on its own, and I don’t make virgin cocktails. You come all this way for a drink?_

Link shook his head. _I wanted to investigate the shrine out east, past Vah Naboris, but P-o-k-k-i is sitting on it and refusing to move without a Noble Pursuit. I thought I’d bring her one and speed things along._

Furosa paused, frowning at him.

 _I do believe that was the sign the champion herself used for the divine beast,_ she said, eyes narrow. Link’s breath hitched, and he took a deep drink of the milk, fingers clasped tightly around the glass as if for support.

“One thing at a time, Link,” Mipha murmured, soft and comforting.

 _Pokki,_ he repeated, trying to stay on topic. Furosa raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

 _The lengths she’ll go to for her favorite drink are amusing,_ Furosa remarked dryly. _I haven’t been able to make Noble Pursuits for several weeks, since they require a large amount of ice, and the path to the icehouse up north is clogged with monsters. Since ice is a luxury, to clear it isn’t exactly a priority._

Link hummed, taking out his Sheikah Slate to open his map. Urbosa leaned over his shoulder and located the icehouse for him, tapping it.

“There’s a very old ruin between here and the icehouse, and a considerable stretch of desert,” she murmured. “Not a bad location, all told, if you mean to hunt monsters while you’re here. Well within your ability to handle.”

Link nodded thoughtfully and put it away, looking back up at Furosa. _I could clear the way, if you liked._

Furosa’s gaze flicked to his shoulder, where the hilt of a scimitar he’d found on the way was just visible. _I see you’re a swordswoman. That eliminates half the problem, yes, but I’m old and in no shape to carry a block of ice all that way. You’d need to find someone willing on such short notice._

 _I can do that too,_ Link said without hesitation. Furosa’s expression softened.

_You’re a sweet girl. Finish your milk. The icehouse guard tends to go to bed shortly after dinner, so you have until then to retrieve the ice if you intend to do so today._

Link hummed and kept drinking, listening with half an ear to the conversation in the other room, more of a lounge than anything, from what he could see. The milk itself was sweet, if slightly warm, and tasted fresh; it was probably goat’s milk, he thought. Could use a little honey.

 _Do you like old legends?_ he asked Furosa on a whim. She snorted quietly.

_Are you asking for a story or offering to tell one?_

_Asking._

“Hm.” _My sign is fluent but not enough to tell a story. Can you hear?_ Link nodded. “Very well. Do you know the story of Nabooru?” Link shook his head. “Then let me tell it to you, little vin. It’s one of our best, out in the desert.”

He listened quietly, accepting a second glass of milk when Furosa offered it to him, and let the tale wash over him. Mipha was listening too, her eyes more on him than on Furosa, a small and warm smile making her face glow prettily. It was a good story, defiance and determination and redemption.

“Those were dark days, when Ganondorf held his iron fist over the Gerudo,” Furosa said heavily. “But they’re long past now, and a voe will never rule us again.”

Link nodded, signed _thank you_ , and set another yellow rupee on the counter before standing up and stretching. He’d been sitting far too long.

Furosa’s gaze darted down to his stomach, and he felt his face heat in discomfort. But Furosa didn’t comment.

“Oh, sa’oten,” Furosa sighed instead, and gave Link a wry smile. “I can’t ask a little Hylian vai to bring that ice all the way back here all by yourself. You bring it just to the near end of the ruins, I’ll wait there for you and take it the rest of the way back.”

Link granted Furosa a small smile of his own. _Would you like me to let you know when I’ve cleared the ruins, then?_

 _Please,_ Furosa agreed, and turned back to her bar as if it was settled.

There wasn’t any time to change; Link downed an elixir for toughness instead, wincing at the taste, and then took off towards the front gate. With night falling, the sapphire circlet went into his slate; he wouldn’t need it this time of day.

“Are you sure you can clear the area?” Urbosa asked archly as soon as they were out, keeping pace with him. “Bokoblin are one thing, but lizalfos are quite another, and the ruins sometimes has Nabooru vipers as well.”

Link made a mental note to keep an eye on them. _I’ll be careful,_ he promised. _Watch my back?_

“Of course,” Urbosa promised instantly, echoed a moment later by Mipha with just as much resolve.

He would have to work quickly; he didn’t want to miss his window and have the icehouse guard fall asleep before he arrived. Butchering lizalfos was simple enough that he could probably get away without skipping it, but he couldn’t linger.

Urbosa caught Daruk up on the plan when he found them, and when he finished laughing he offered to watch the icehouse and let Link know if the guard went to sleep. Mipha took one side, and Urbosa took the other, and Link ran one sword drill with the scimitar before he went in.

He felt- he felt _confident._ Like he had going to find Sesami’s friends.

“On your left, Link!”

“One behind the pillar!”

“There’s three that set up an ambush on ahead, Link.”

“Watch yourself, the next few are electric.”

For a few minutes, everything seemed to fall in line, the Gerudo clothes smooth on Link’s skin and his feet moving under him exactly as he wanted them to and the air cooling down from the blazing desert heat. Mipha and Urbosa wove in and out of the battle just as easily, keeping an eye on things from every angle, their sharp instincts missing nothing. Link parried lizalfos blades with next to no effort, and spun around to slice through them, and it was easy.

This was what he was born for.

All told it took less than an hour to clear the ruins, leaving him sweaty and sore, stomach burning, but more than loosely satisfied with himself. Even Urbosa was smirking broadly, eyes glimmering with something like pride.

“Well done, Link,” she said quietly. “Go ahead and harvest the spoils. It looks like you have time.” She nodded at the sky, only just beginning to dim properly with the falling sun.

He grinned at her, a flash of teeth and pleasure, and set to work, kneeling beside the nearest lizalfos to start the dirtiest part of the work. He’d have to wash before he went to get the ice, but it would be worth it.

He could almost hear, in Revali’s voice, _If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to show off those sword skills you used to be so well known for._

Link had to keep himself from laughing in the rush of relief and unfamiliar pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm almost done with Age of Calamity! Been taking my sweet time with it, but I think I'll finish it today. I'm on the last chapter, at least.
> 
> Bottom line is that this fic might feature references but not spoilers, though I have another one in progress that will definitely feature things a lot more heavily. (I'm so excited to post that one.)
> 
> Oh, I also posted, not one, not two, but FOUR entire oneshots since last week. One of these is an explicit Mipha/Link fic, and the other three are all post-canon hurt/comfort focusing on Link and Zelda.


	15. Chapter 15

Link walked side by side with Furosa on the way back to the city, keeping a careful eye on the desert around them. No lizalfos came near, though, either licking their wounds or in retreat, and when they were back inside the city they traded back again; Furosa had been huffing and wincing under the weight of the ice block.

He deposited it in a little cooler Furosa had set aside, not quite bare but very close to it, and stretched, working the strain out of his shoulders.

 _Your help is appreciated, little vin,_ Furosa signed warmly, leaning back on the wall. _Are you certain you want to go back into the desert tonight? Pokki will probably return on her own before much longer._

Link nodded without hesitation, shaking himself off. _I’ve come this close, I’d like to finish up tonight. And Pokki will be pleased._

Furosa rolled her eyes, but she was already smiling. _Very well, go tell her the good news. I’ll start mixing one up special. Tell her it’s the best one I’ve ever made._

Link flashed her a smile, and then turned to make his way out of the town again, ready for the last branch of the day’s tasks. Mipha and Urbosa were waiting for him, and Urbosa’s expression was lined with fondness.

 _Not too tired?_ Mipha asked him, her concern somehow not souring her smile in the least. Link shook his head; he was sore and fatigued, but he’d been resting for days and it wouldn’t keep him from focusing. _Then let’s go finish up._

Despite his own insistence, Link was lagging by the time he’d passed Naboris, and he’d miscalculated on one point; his Gerudo clothes were too thin and open for the chilly desert night, and he had to take a strong, warm elixir to stop himself from shivering.

 _I want to finish,_ he insisted stubbornly to Mipha. The tightness around her eyes made him soften, and he promised, _I’ll take it slow tomorrow. It shouldn’t take half the day to reach the fairy fountain, right?_

“Hm?” Revali grunted irritably, when Mipha nudged him, and Link waited for Revali to look over before he repeated himself. “Is that all? Yes, fine, you should be able to make it there and back before dark even if you leave in the late afternoon.”

“Wear your desert spaulder,” Urbosa tacked on, voice leaving no room for compromise. “That part of the desert is blazingly hot for most of the day, and there are a few monster camps as well.”

Link nodded, squinting into the distance to see if he could make out the shrine yet.

The moon was high by the time they reached it, and he was feeling a little shaky with exhaustion himself. He dropped down to sit in front of a visibly dozing Pokki, fiddled with the Sheikah Slate, and then finally reached out to prod her awake.

 _“Bartender has a drink for you,”_ said Zelda’s faintly distorted voice. _“Best she’s ever made.”_

Pokki’s eyes blinked open blearily, and then all at once she shot bolt upright. “Furosa has a Noble Pursuit?”

Despite himself, Link chuckled softly and nodded, and without another word, Pokki took off at a run. Link ran his fingers through his hair and just held back from rolling his eyes.

Well. At least he could get into the shrine now.

“Maybe you should wait,” Mipha interrupted, voice a little high with anxiety, and when Link looked at her she was biting her lip, eyes on him.

Link hesitated. _Just a peek,_ he bargained. Mipha laughed a little, helplessly fond.

“Oh, alright,” she murmured, not looking entirely reassured. Link promised himself he’d move quickly.

It turned out not to be difficult; the Misae Suma shrine was another blessing shrine. Even better, when he opened the chest in the middle… there was a diamond in it.

He didn’t think it was a coincidence that it was exactly what he’d been wanting, and with a broad smile, he thanked the monk half a dozen times, desperately relieved, before he finally pushed himself to his feet and went to break the stasis cube.

“You have done well to arrive at this shrine,” Misae Suma began, and Link closed his eyes to receive the spirit orb with a sigh.

When he left the shrine again, he looked around quickly, his eyes passing over each of the others before he finally met Mipha’s expectant gaze and gave her a crooked grin.

 _I’m getting a diamond circlet,_ he told her, buzzing with a faintly punch-drunk delight, and after a moment she smiled back.

 _Congratulations,_ she said sincerely.

* * *

The next morning, Link woke up with the sun, blearily met Mipha’s disapproving gaze, and went back to sleep almost the moment she indicated for him to do so, the faint sound of humming filling his dreams.

He didn’t actually rise until the sun was high in the sky, rubbing at his face and still feeling fuzzy and tired. He hummed low in his throat a few times, discontented, and then squinted up at Urbosa, who snorted and muttered something inaudible.

“You should sell your spoils,” she said more clearly. “Then perhaps you can visit Isha and see if she’s finished your order.”

And he could ask for the diamond circlet, too. The thought made him perk up almost immediately, and he nodded, pushing himself up to his feet and only stumbling a little. Mipha reached out to steady him, only just stopping herself from touching him before she pulled her hand close again, expression regretful. He yawned, rubbing at his sleepy eyes again, and started moving.

Zayla was pleased to see him again, but insisted on checking over his health before they went over the spoils he’d brought.

“If you’re so recently recovered from serious injury, you should be somewhere a doctor can assess you regularly,” she chided without heat, feeling his forehead and then his pulse. “Hateno or Kakariko, or perhaps somewhere near Zora’s Domain. I assume there’s lingering pain?” She glanced meaningfully down at his stomach, and Link had to stop himself from squirming. He shrugged. “This isn’t a trial, little vai. There _is_ lingering pain. If you explain it to me, perhaps I can help.”

Link did squirm this time, clenching and unclenching his fists on his lap and just stopping short of shaking them out. He didn’t want to look at anyone, and he kicked the ground sullenly. Zayla waited.

 _They stretch painfully,_ he said at last, slow and stiff. It had been worst on that rainy day in Kakariko, but at least he hadn’t been very active then; he hated to think what it would feel like to fight in the rain.

“Expected,” she agreed, with perhaps less brusqueness than he’d come to expect from her. “Is there anything this prevents you from doing, or makes difficult?”

Link glanced over at Mipha, whose intense gaze was focused on Zayla. But after a moment she caught his eye by accident, confusion creeping into her expression at his lingering look. His stomach swooped with discomfort.

He returned his attention to Zayla and tried to force himself to relax, shaking his head. There were some things that were painful, but nothing he hadn’t been able to grit through. It was fine; he was fine.

Abruptly, Mipha clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes going wide, and all but bolted out the door. Link relaxed, bit his cheek, and, shamefully more comfortable without Mipha watching, conceded to Zayla without looking at her,

 _It can be hard to pull a shirt on sometimes. And reaching over my head hurts, especially when I’m climbing. But I can do it._ He hesitated, staring at the ground for a moment, and then added reluctantly, _The sun and the rain both hurt._

Zayla didn’t look surprised, only nodding along, gaze intent and focused.

“Do you stretch?” Link nodded. “How often?”

_In the mornings and sometimes the evenings._

“Try to do it more often,” Zayla instructed. “Aim for at least five times a day, perhaps when you stop for meals or other short rests. I can also show you how to make an ointment out of chu jelly and cool safflina that should soften it and help with any itching.” Zayla considered him for a moment, and then tacked on, “I’m afraid I’m out of ralis root, but you should be able to get it from one of the Hylian traveling doctors. Tell them I recommended it.”

Even as he nodded, Link knew that he would not do that. He could deal with the discomfort; other people were likely to need the powerful painkiller more.

“And get a spa plan from Romah at the Hotel Oasis,” Zayla added, with a hint of a smile that told Link she was anticipating the way he flushed in startled embarrassment. “Massage will help loosen the scar tissue and improve your range of motion – that’s important to you as a swordswoman, isn’t it?” Link still hesitated, and she snorted. “Think about it, little vai.”

That wasn’t the end of it – there was a little more back and forth, going over a few stretches Link didn’t habitually perform and Zayla showing Link how to make the ointment – so it was over half an hour before he finally emerged, slate empty of monster spoils but much more full of rupees.

Mipha’s smile was a little strained when he found her, and he cocked his head.

 _I’m sorry for staying earlier,_ she apologized, virtually unprompted. _I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I forget sometimes, that things aren’t quite the same._

Link read between the lines easily enough; more than the mistake itself, it probably bothered Mipha that things had changed in the first place. He softened, feeling an echo of the thin-stretched exhaustion that threatened to dog him. _You were worried. I understand. I just don’t like talking about it._

 _You don’t like to admit weakness,_ Mipha signed solemnly, making Link shift in discomfort. _You forget that it’s okay to be human._ She gave him a small, weary smile of her own, and then tilted her head towards the jewelry shop. _Urbosa went to watch Vah Naboris for a while, she’ll meet us when we leave. Let’s finish our errands._

Relieved at the change of subject, Link nodded, and the two of them started toward Starlight Memories.

Isha looked much happier than she had when they’d first encountered a few days before, and she actually grinned when she saw Link. “Link, little vai! You’re in luck, I was up late last night finishing the last of your order. Let me fit the circlet and you can collect them.”

Link gave her a small smile and a nod, coming the rest of the way in to let her fuss in clear pleasure, setting the ruby circlet on his head and then fiddling with the arms. Heat rushed back and forth over him, and he winced at Mipha, making her laugh quietly. Other than that, he waited patiently, barely repressing his eagerness.

Finally, Isha nodded and stepped back, looking pleased with herself. “That will do. Give me just a moment.” She left before he could even nod, returning a minute later with three pairs of earrings in the palm of her hand. “Here – one amber, one opal, and one topaz, just as you requested.”

 _Thank you,_ he signed without thinking, then took them and tilted his cupped hand back and forth to watch them sparkle in the light. He showed them to Mipha, who looked just as delighted, before finally tucking the topaz and opal earrings into his slate and swapping his conventional blue hoops for the amber.

Then he tapped around on the slate for a minute, released the three diamonds he’d collected, and showed them to Isha. Her eyes went briefly wide; she clearly hadn’t actually expected Link to be able to gather them so quickly. He waited, holding his breath nervously.

Almost as quickly, her expression turned calculating, and she lifted her gaze back to his hopeful face.

“You’re quite frightened of guardians, aren’t you, little vin?” she asked, and then, without waiting for an answer, “I have two diamond circlets still in stock. Give me the diamonds and the payment, and I’ll fit one of those to you instead of having you wait.”

He thanked her half a dozen times before they finally made the trade, and the diamond circlet went on and didn’t come off again.

Revali snorted when he saw it. “Quite the lavish accessory you’ve gotten for yourself,” he said tartly, turning his back before Link could reply with a dismissive flourish.

Link fidgeted, his contentment slipping out of him, but Daruk broke in before he could do more than reach to tug at the strap of his spaulder.

“Nothing beats the protective properties of a solid well-hewn gemstone!” he said cheerfully, loud enough that Link had to look up at him. Daruk grinned at him. “Used to be Gorons that made things like that, you know, but the Gerudo have always had a much more delicate hand with ‘em – us Gorons, ours are a little big for it.” He flexed his fingers, each one as thick as Link’s thigh. “And diamonds are the oldest magic there is – enchant it up a little and it’ll be better than any armor.”

Before he knew it, Link was almost smiling again, and when Daruk caught his eye he nodded firmly.

“I believe Isha’s grandmother, Jaiyun, was the Gerudo’s best jeweler before her,” Urbosa supplied without looking back. “Back in the day she ran a thriving business that spanned every major trade route in Hyrule; her main shop was in the Windvane Exchange, not Gerudo Town itself.” After a moment, Urbosa softened slightly and glanced back to meet his eyes. “It’s possible that her mother would have passed on the designs for Hylian hairpins.”

Link was frowning before he consciously registered the itch of memory. One of his hands wandered to twist one of the locks of hair framing his face. Urbosa pressed her lips together, pity flashing across her face.

“Hairstyling has always been of significant religious import in Hyrule,” she explained without waiting to be asked. “Both you and Zelda were always rather diligent about it.”

Link tugged at the lock of hair pensively for a few more moments, forcing himself to accept that he wasn’t going to remember anything else on his own, and then let go and nodded at Urbosa solemnly. She sighed and looked ahead again.

“Perhaps Hateno still has a temple you can attend,” she said dismissively, and Link tried not to hope too much.

* * *

It was still early in the evening when Link saw the skeleton, the fossilized remains of some large and breathtaking beast that made him slow to a stop without realizing it, eyes fixed on the massive skull, the huge curving ribs, the outstretched remains of a fin. The whipping sandstorm had hidden them right up until they were within yards, and they towered over him.

Revali grunted. “Yes,” he agreed, though Link hadn’t said anything; his voice was markedly softer than normal, as if in hushed deference to the resting place. “I almost didn’t see the fairy fountain past this beast. I suppose she must be using it as shelter from the sun and sand.”

Link hadn’t even noticed the fairy fountain, and it took a force of will to tear his gaze away from the towering skeleton to look inside at the closed up bulb within, pulsing gently with withered power.

“Or perhaps she wants to honor it,” Urbosa offered, just as soft. “I’ve been here before – the desert leviathan’s remains predate the Gerudo’s presence here by centuries. It’s conventional to pay tribute to the skeleton alongside the fairy.”

 _How?_ Link asked, and then glanced pleadingly at Mipha when Urbosa didn’t notice. Mipha relayed his question without hesitation, and Urbosa turned to look at him, faintly apologetic.

“Most often, people clean the leviathan of bugs and growth. The dirt and sand it collects is unavoidable, but there is no need to let it be consumed.”

Link nodded, determined, and then hauled himself up onto the skull to begin. As loathe as he had been to swap the diamond circlet for the sapphire so soon after finally getting it, he was sure he would be grateful for it while he worked.

“I’ve seen one of those myself, north of the mountain,” Daruk said, just loud enough to be heard over the sandstorm. “Never thought of sending people to pay respects.” He sighed. “Guess it doesn’t matter much these days anyway.”

“Take heart, Daruk,” Mipha murmured. “Hyrule will recover as it always has. Perhaps the tradition will be taken up then.”

“Heh. Yeah, you’re right, princess. I bet the Gorons back home’ll be finding that leviskeleton any day now.”

The four of them stood in line by the skull like guards standing vigil, and none of them said another word for as long as it took Link to dig the rooted plants and bug nests out of the leviathan’s joints.

It was then, and only then, that Link finally slid off the enormous spine, landing with a thump in the sand below, and approached the fairy fountain, slow and respectful.

The other four took it as their cue to come inside, spreading out to each examine something different, but Link didn’t take his eyes off the throbbing bud in front of him. Safflina of every color surrounded it, swaying gently in the breeze drifting in through the leviathan’s bones, and as Link came closer, little glowing fairies popped out of the tangled stems, wings fluttering.

He hummed softly, aiming for soothing, and didn’t halt his progress until he reached the fungal pedestal leading up to the fountain. Without hesitation, he knelt down and waited.

“Girl…?” the fairy murmured, sleepy surprise coating her voice. She parted the petals, peeking out with squinting, weary eyes Link could barely make out. “Oh, sweet girl… Won’t you help a withered spirit?” Link nodded, beckoning her out encouragingly. “Oh, kind girl… I am the Great Fairy Tera, but my form has shrunken with neglect and disuse. Please, child, I require the rupees once sacrificed to me to become whole.”

Link nodded again, confidently reached for his slate, and then set a clean orange rupee in the hand already reaching out of the bud. It closed around the gem and snapped back inside, and the bud convulsed.

“Please…” the fairy begged, voice thick with longing and something like pain. “More… I need _more…_ five… five hundred rupees to become myself again…”

Link blinked, feeling himself go faintly pale.

He hadn’t thought of Tera requiring a different amount; he’d reserved a hundred rupees for the same offering he’d given Cotera, but the rest had gone to… He bit his tongue, frustrated.

It took some fumbling to get the Sheikah Slate and tap out his response. _“I apologize. I’ll get it for you.”_

“I believe you,” the fairy sighed, and the bud closed again.

Angry with himself, Link spun around on the platform, still sitting down, and exhaled heavily. The soft chime of little fairies brought his gaze back up only a second later, and three of them, holding hands, whispered at him, inaudible but sweet. Tiredly, he blew a kiss, and all three giggled.

The first one hummed a few bars of a song Link recognized somewhere in his heart, and then bowed, let go of her sister’s hand, and disappeared into his Sheikah Slate. On the other end, the third let go, darted forward to tangle her fingers in his hair, and murmured something he couldn’t make out before doing the same.

The second, left alone in the middle, just clasped her hands together in prayer, bowed like the first with her wings flashing and sparkling, and then skipped forward to whirl around him, trailing fairy dust.

Aches and draining burns that he’d long since tuned out disappeared, easing some of the tension from his shoulders, and he felt his head tip a little, wistful and dreamlike.

Finally, he looked up, finding Urbosa’s gaze and raised eyebrows, and asked, _Is there another molduga nearby?_

* * *

 _You need to take a break,_ Mipha insisted, keeping easy pace with Link while he kept going. Link shook his head. _It’s okay to take a break. You’re still getting tired easily. Are you hurting? Are you sick?_

 _I’m fine,_ Link signed sharply, reaching up to push his hair out of his face, and tried to ignore the flash of startled hurt on Mipha’s face. It was getting late again, and he’d swapped sapphire for ruby, his spaulder for a tunic. _If I hadn’t been so damn eager, I could’ve taken my time, but I had to get…_

He trailed off, frustrated, and reached up to tug angrily at his hair. The rush of sand hurt his ears. He could hear buzzing electricity from the wandering lizalfos.

 _Stop that,_ Mipha returned sternly. _You didn’t know you would need more, and you worked for that protection. You wanted it and you earned it, and you don’t need to hurt yourself to earn it again._

 _I’m not hurting myself,_ Link snapped, even though his scars burned with exertion and overuse, and if it weren’t dark Mipha could probably see that he was pale with pain and the nauseating hyperawareness of his body.

“What are you two talking about?” Urbosa asked, sharp and attentive, and Mipha frowned briefly at Link before turning to Urbosa. His eyes went wide.

A short, harsh growl left Link’s mouth before he could stop it, panicked and raw. Mipha’s mouth snapped shut, her expression melting into something apologetic and miserable, and she looked away. Link sat down hard, panting a little, and the others slowed to a stop around him, because he always slowed them down.

 _I’m sorry,_ he signed at last, unable to get Mipha’s hurt expression out of his head. _I just hate it. I hate it. I’m fine._

“I know,” Mipha murmured, so soft Link could barely hear it. “I’m sorry, I know.”

Urbosa glanced from Mipha to Link, suspicion creeping into her expression, and Link ducked away from her dawning realization, scratching unhappily at the rougher skin of his arms.

“This is about your fatigue cracks, ain’t it?” Daruk said sympathetically, giving Link a crooked smile when he looked up, startled. Link tugged at his ear unhappily, and Daruk switched fluidly to sign without changing expression. _You see it in Gorons who’ve been in cave-ins or talus fights sometimes, cracks in their shoulder or their back, never quite heal up. Can hurt something fierce. I was wondering how bad you’d get them from those burns._

Link blinked at him dumbly, and Daruk’s expression softened.

_Don’t worry about it, little brother. Plenty good warriors get ‘em, and Hylians are squishy. Nothing to be ashamed of. You take a break, I hear the stars are beautiful out here. I know some stories about ‘em too, you always liked those._

Looking for sanity, Link glanced uncertainly at Revali, who ruffled his feathers and scoffed almost on cue.

“You don’t fly with broken wings,” he bit out quietly, which was about as much of a concession as Link was likely to get, and finally, he sighed, deflated in what felt oddly like defeat, and nodded meekly.

Two hours later, Link presented his offering to Tera, and smiled tiredly as she burst gleefully from the fountain, splashing sacred water all over the sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is about when I hyperfixated extraordinarily hard on the lingering effects of Link's scarring, so that's gonna be a huge focal point of the next several chapters, no apologies.
> 
> I hope you all could feel the tangible wave of 'OH SHIT I'M AT THE MEDICAL APPOINTMENT OF A MAN WHO DOESN'T REALIZE WE WERE ENGAGED' that made Mipha leave, lmao.
> 
> It got lost a little in translation, but 'fatigue cracks' was meant to be a reference to the 'Goron shoulder' in the Rock Roast shrine quest!


	16. Chapter 16

At some point during the wee hours of the morning, Link got himself to the goddess statue; he thought Mipha might have led him there. He curled up next to it and pressed his forehead against the warm stone, shutting out as much input as he could, grateful for the reprieve; it was the only quiet part of Gerudo Town. His skin throbbed painfully, angry at the abuse it had taken over the last day. His breathing rasped loudly in his ears.

Muava found him there a couple hours later, and it was the persistent tapping of her finger by his face that finally made him pry himself away just enough to look at her. The high-pitched, hysterical screeching of overstimulation had calmed in the last few hours, and the throbbing had calmed into an acute soreness, but both had left him exhausted, and he didn’t want to move.

She grinned at him, unfazed.

“Overwhelmed, eh?” she teased gently, and then shoved a bowl into his hands, which he fumbled with before his grip steadied. “Eat this, you silly little vin. Gerudo town special.”

Link looked down at it, and then took the spoon and started eating the simmered fruit halfheartedly.

On his other side, Mipha let out an audible and obvious sigh of relief. To Link’s surprise, one from Urbosa followed not a half-second later, and he glanced up to find her relaxing against the wall, watching him solemnly, looking almost as tired as he felt.

He ate.

It took him a few minutes to finish, but he finally looked up at Muava and signed a shaky thanks, pushing the bowl across the goddess statue again. She took it and tossed it aside carelessly – he winced involuntarily at the loud clatter – and snorted at him.

“You don’t have to do everything in a week, little vai,” Muava chided, keeping her voice uncharacteristically soft. “There’s no limit on your stay here, you know. Brings in money for the town.”

Link made a disconsolate little mumbling sound, unwilling to put more effort into replying. To explain why he needed to keep moving.

Muava hummed at him, faintly reproving, but sat back and opened her book, leaving Link to a few more minutes of quiet. He sighed and settled against the wall again, resenting his weakness, the rawness of his skin and his emotions, and too much more to say.

It was a while later that Urbosa crouched in front of him, snapping softly, and he blinked his eyes open again and looked at her. Without a word, she sat down in front of him and started moving through stretches. After a moment of blank incomprehension, Link recognized them and started to follow along, clenching his jaw against a whine at the pull and sting.

Once Urbosa had finished running through the stretches with him and went to check in with Revali and Daruk, Mipha tapped his Sheikah Slate until he grabbed the ointment Zayla had shown him how to make, and then silently walked him through applying it. It was cool to the touch, and it sank into his skin, tingling faintly. And it did feel a little better after.

At noon he knelt in front of the goddess statue, prayed, and then turned to Muava and offered her a plate of fruit-and-mushroom skewers to share with him, which she accepted with clear pleasure.

It was at the end of that that he finally wiped his hands, opened the communication rune, and told her, _“I’m leaving today.”_ He glanced up and indicated the direction of Kara Kara, though he doubted it mattered very much.

Muava’s expression softened. “Of course. Safe travels, little vai,” she murmured, and squeezed his forearm before he stood.

Link nodded, waved, and left out the side gate nearby.

He didn’t notice the soulmark until later – nothing dark or deep, just the faintest imprint of a tangerine handprint on his skin, barely a shade or two darker than the remains of the soulmark he had from Zelda.

* * *

The second-last shrine that Urbosa knew of in the area was the one associated with the sand seal races, which were on hiatus for as long as it took Vah Naboris to calm down; he marked it on his map for later and went towards Kara Kara. He’d promised to visit Vilia before he left, after all.

 _Stop laughing at me,_ he signed at Mipha, smiling faintly despite himself as she kept giggling.

“I’m sorry,” she managed, voice still blessedly soft. “Some of your tasks are so _silly,_ Link.”

He shrugged, not bothering to hide his own amusement, and dropped by the monster camp that was threateningly close to the trail to carefully snipe the monsters inside before he swept up the spoils and kept going.

Vilia was on the roof again. He climbed up to sit beside her, a little closer than he had before, and she was already perking up a little as she turned towards him, eyes glittering.

 _It is good to see you,_ she greeted carefully, turning easily away from Naboris to look at him instead. _Does this mean you leave soon?_

Link nodded. _I’ll visit again,_ he promised. He had liked Gerudo Town. _Maybe I’ll buy another set of clothes sometime. These are very nice._

Vilia’s eyes crinkled. _Thank you. Where are you going next?_

 _Faron,_ Link answered instantly, nodding off past Vah Naboris. _I’ll be making my way towards the eastern coast. Akkala, ultimately._ Tera had kept better track of her sisters than Cotera had.

 _That should take you through wonderful places,_ Vilia said, with clear wistfulness. _I do not travel; I prefer my home. But you will have fun._

Link hummed softly, and Vilia hesitated before continuing.

 _But that is not why you travel,_ she prompted. Link stiffened a little, and Vilia said gently, _You are a soldier. I recognize it. Why do you travel?_

Link remained tense for a minute longer before exhaling, turning over his hand to examine the covered back before he signed. _I’m gathering strength,_ he answered shortly, unwilling to elaborate any more than that.

Vilia reached for his hand, brushing back the silken covering, and while Link stiffened he didn’t pull away. With the veil pushed aside, they could both see that the triforce mark on Link’s hand was easily twice as vivid as it had been when he first arrived.

“So you are,” Vilia murmured, and then let go, allowing him to pull his hand back sharply. _I apologize. I had started to wonder if I was dreaming. The man my grandfather knew had the same mark. By legend, it is the soulmark of Hylia._

Link had to stop himself from visibly reacting, and he wasn’t sure he entirely succeeded. If so, though, Vilia did not seem to notice.

There were only three people in the world who ever had this mark on their hand. At least, according to legend. One most often a woman, one who had long since degraded to malice, and…

 _Could you make fingerless gloves?_ he asked impulsively, and she considered him for a moment, eyes hooded and solemn, and then nodded.

 _It would take a few hours,_ she warned, but he nodded without hesitation, and once again they moved inside.

In her tailor shop, she removed her veil to see better, and then started measuring and moving his hands, lips pursed. “I recognize the sword calluses. Do you use a bow as well?” Link nodded. “I will be cautious with the range of motion. Will you be climbing?” Another nod. “A sturdy cloth, then. Does one-fifty at a rush sound fair?”

Link nodded and watched her hands as she worked, taking in the different marks on them – a number of different smears of different hues and shades on her hands, a deep blue patch on her jaw, a handprint on her forearm.

There were a few moments between her letting go of his hands and turning away to rummage through cloth, and he took the chance to ask, _Who are your colors?_ And he hadn’t even realized that was how to phrase that question until he was already asking.

Vilia paused to give him a fond look before completing the motion, digging through her stock. “The one on my jaw is from my grandfather – that was the first dark soulmark I ever received. He raised me more than my parents ever did.”

She laid out a couple bolts of cloth and cocked an eyebrow at him, and he felt each of them before tapping a soft but sturdy forest green fabric. She nodded distractedly, put the others away, and started to mark out lines.

“The handprint is from a Gerudo guard, Ashai – did you meet her?” Link nodded. “She’s quite a wonderful teacher, made sure I had at least working knowledge of a scimitar. A woman has to be able to defend herself, especially one like me.” Vilia gave him a faint smile. “I really did get the unlucky end of Hylian genes… Anyway, Ashai has always been a dear friend.”

Link wondered if Ashai had taught Vilia how to cook as well.

“Do you see the little bright mark in the crook of my thumb? Yes? There’s a little child who spends time by one of the fountains, always quite sweet…”

Vilia continued on for a while, checking off each of her marks with steady warmth, and it was only as she was moving on to start sewing the fabric together that she asked, “And yours, little vai?”

Link smiled at her before he could consciously register his pleasure, moved so she could see his hands better, and started to tell her about Koko, and Beedle, Muava, Sesami and his friends…

He left out Zelda and he knew Vilia noticed the absence, but thankfully she didn’t ask.

He wished he could tell her about Mipha and Daruk and Urbosa and Revali too, but, well… none of them had left marks, and that… that was… strange. It left a sick feeling in his stomach and he didn’t want to try to explain.

Mipha came in to check on them eventually, her expression softening with sympathy when she discovered what Vilia was sewing.

 _Good,_ she signed solemnly, when she caught his eye. _You deserve to feel safe._

Tension he hadn’t even noticed drained out of him, an odd relief making his head spin, and he had to look away. He started to stretch, remembering what Zayla had said, and Vilia continued to work, brow furrowed in concentration as her fingers flicked the needle around with practiced precision.

An hour later, Vilia sat back, stretched, and gave Link a pleased smile.

“See how these fit,” she instructed, nodding to the finished product.

Link was reaching for them before she’d finished speaking, pulling them over his hands and then flexing them, turning them over to examine the backs, already nodding his approval. They moved well with his hands, left his fingers free, and the material was nice. Though…

He turned them both inside out and indicated the seams apologetically, then put them down and asked, _Can you trim the seams? They’ll start to sting after a while._ It had made the Sheikah gloves uncomfortable enough that he’d taken them off.

Vilia cocked an eyebrow, but obeyed, handing them back just a minute later. He tried them on again, let a flicker of a smile cross his face, and nodded.

 _Thank you,_ he signed with pleasure, turning them over to admire them. _These are perfect._

Vilia hummed contentedly, and then said, _Enjoy your travels, take care of yourself, and make sure to come by again._

Link nodded firmly, paid for the gloves, and pulled them on as he left, shaking himself off to prepare for the next leg of the journey. The others were gathered by the water hole again, talking quietly, and he caught snatches of what sounded like an argument about weapons maintenance before he got close enough to laugh at them.

“Finally on our way out!” Daruk exclaimed, shoving to his feet with clear enthusiasm. “No offense, Urbosa, the desert’s great, but it’ll be nice to see more of our little rock. Spent more time apart than together this last week.”

Link surprised himself with the warmth that flashed through him at that, and instead tilted his head towards the east, where Urbosa had promised to lead the way to the desert labyrinth.

“I suppose I’m going to get stuck with the work of leading you through the maze,” Revali griped, shuffling distastefully over the sand and then turning to give Link an unimpressed look. Link snorted at him and shook his head, and both Revali’s eyebrows rose. “No? It would certainly speed things along.”

Link stuck his tongue out at him, trying not to smirk at Revali’s affronted expression.

 _You wouldn’t let anyone help you with your trials, would you?_ Link challenged, knowing Revali more than well enough by now to be sure of that. _Why would I?_

Something unreadable flickered across Revali’s face, but in the next second he warmed and softened noticeably, snorting as he dropped in close to Link. “Well, I suppose your integrity is one of your more obnoxiously present characteristics.”

Link and Mipha shared a roll of their eyes, and Urbosa was smiling when she clicked her tongue for attention.

“Are we planning on getting to the labyrinth sometime today or not?” she asked archly, and didn’t wait for an answer before turning away.

* * *

There was something precious about the quiet of the labyrinth.

 _It’s a shrine,_ Link signed with certainty, as soon as they set foot in the area.

“How do you know?” Urbosa asked, arching her eyebrows at him, though there wasn’t a trace of doubt in her tone. Link tapped his head.

 _There was a monk,_ he explained, starting forward and looking back and forth to get a feel for the area. And then, _Can you meet me back here when I’m done?_

Mipha was the only one who didn’t look surprised – Mipha and, he realized after a moment, Revali, who snorted softly.

“A week in civilization was too much for you, hm?” he scoffed, and then, “I suppose I’m damned to be a scout for the rest of eternity anyway. Please, don’t hurry on our account. We’re only in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to do, waiting on you to finish your tasks...”

Link pushed down the urge to stick his tongue out at him again. _It’s a labyrinth twice the size of a city. How quickly do you think I can possibly get through?_

Revali groaned dramatically, but Mipha just gave him a small smile.

“We’ll be here,” she promised.

Daruk nodded his agreement. “Don’t forget to eat your rocks, little brother. Faron doesn’t have any good deposits, so it might be the last you see of them for a while.”

“Do not eat rocks,” Mipha countered immediately, but Link just gave Daruk a solemn nod and a thumbs up, and then continued on into the labyrinth alone, taking a random dive into the twisted corridors.

Link loved his friends, but the quiet isolation was blessed. Link was _exhausted._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all have no idea how relieved I was to finally reach this point of the fic. The desert arc felt goddamn interminable, I'm telling you.
> 
> By the way, I've got another WIP longfic that I intend to start posting this Friday. Keep an eye out for that.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also has detailed discussion of the medical use of painkillers, if that makes you uncomfortable.

There was something about being bundled up on top of a mountain, sitting by a fire reading an aged research log in a broken-down cabin, that made Link feel almost at home. Like this was how things were supposed to be.

There were only about two weeks’ worth of research logs in the notebook, by Link’s estimation, maybe more if they weren’t evenly spaced out. Most of them were just quotes from an unspecified source text and the researcher’s frustrated ramblings, trial and error and mysteries, but flipping through it had Link nodding along, thoughtful and slow.

He glanced up when Revali got back from wherever he’d gone off to. _I’m starting to wonder whether you’re easily bored or just a mother hen._

Revali scowled at him, clearly offended. “I’m so _sorry_ that I have better things to do than watch you flip through the same moth-eaten paper a dozen times over. Am I mistaken, or do you _not_ want to know about the guardians wandering nearby after all?”

Link’s smile disappeared, and he swallowed, feeling a biting cold that had nothing to do with the snowy mountain they rested on. Revali sighed.

“Yes, alright, that wasn’t funny,” Revali acknowledged, as close to an apology as he was likely to get. “Show me your map.”

Hands trembling faintly, Link did, and Revali pointed out a few locations nearby where live guardians were active. Then he indicated a nearby valley as well.

“Lynels,” Revali said flatly. “In your heyday they wouldn’t have given you any trouble, but I suspect you haven’t precisely built up your old strength yet, so you’ll go far around if you know what’s good for you.”

Link nodded, hesitantly adding stamps onto his map at the points Revali had indicated. Urbosa caught his eye when he looked up, legs folded where she was watching the desert again.

“There’s no shame in recovery,” she said, quiet and faintly resigned. “None of us expected you to wake up already slaughtering lynels in their dozens.” A pause, and then she surrendered a small, self-recriminating smile. “At least, not consciously. But you always did seem rather invulnerable back in the day.”

Link shrugged, looking down at the journal and then up to the inert pedestal. A snowball sat not far away, ready to be moved when the time came.

 _I don’t think that worked out very well,_ he said, eyes fixed on the pedestal.

Urbosa snorted loudly. “No, I suppose not. What are you going to do if you’re wrong about this shrine puzzle?”

 _Wait another twenty-four hours,_ Link said wryly, setting the research log back on the stump it came from. _…How did you know it was me you were looking for? When you were looking for the soul of the hero._

There was a short pause, and it was eventually Mipha who answered, soft and sure. “They didn’t at first, Link. You made yourself impossible to ignore through by virtue of your own skill. And then one day you drew the sword.”

Link closed his eyes. A flash of a purple hilt, a blade glowing with sacred light, the top of a tiered staircase high above an abyss.

He wondered if it would be petty to ask Mipha to tell him about his sword.

When he opened his eyes again, Mipha was studying him, and in the end she didn’t even wait to be asked.

“I always thought it was interesting that you would use the animate sign pronoun for your sword,” Mipha said quietly. “You talked about her with such affection, even when you warned people that she was hostile, or spoke about proving yourself to her. You used another sword to spar because you said that she didn’t know how to play nice.”

Link exhaled softly, unable to bring himself to smile. _Hostile?_ he asked, hoping that Mipha would understand his reaction was not out of a lack of gratitude, only a sudden exhaustion.

She might have, because her voice gentled noticeably. “Yes. At some point over the centuries, the sacred sword became so blessed that no one but her chosen wielder could touch her. Anyone else suffers great harm. You’ve implied before that you were… not two halves of a whole, but symbiotic. Greater than the sum of your parts.”

 _I don’t remember,_ Link signed helplessly, before he could think better of it.

There was a beat of silence, awkward and heavy, and Link picked up the research log just to flip through it again. Eventually, Daruk cleared his throat.

“Little guy,” he said quietly, and then, with decisiveness, “Link.”

Hesitantly, Link looked up. Daruk looked… more sober, than Link usually saw him.

“It’s been just about a month now, hasn’t it?” Link nodded. “You remembered anything?”

 _Fragments,_ Link answered shortly. _The hilt of my sword, the name of my horse. Zelda likes legends._

He hoped Daruk didn’t start pushing him to remember more, because Link felt a little like that might be enough to break him. Link had _tried_ to remember, spent hours and hours at it – he just couldn’t.

“That’s gotta be tough,” Daruk said instead, steady and solemn. Link went still. “Does it scare you?”

Link’s breath hitched, and he didn’t want to move. He shrugged uncomfortably.

Daruk didn’t move, seemingly content to wait him out, and Mipha was looking at him now too, expression soft with genuine concern. Revali shifted, obviously discomfited, but Urbosa actually reached out and pinched him disapprovingly. Link wanted to laugh, but seemed to have temporarily forgotten how.

 _I want to remember,_ he signed at last, stilted. _I wish I remembered._

“Of course you do,” Mipha murmured soothingly.

“Big jobs are easier with a solid foundation,” Daruk added, giving Link a gentle, wry smile. “I bet it’s been hard for you to find that, huh?” Link stared at him, wide-eyed. Daruk shrugged, expression easing into a more casual grin. “I’ve been thinking a lot over the last week or so, that’s all. Anything I can do to help, just ask.”

Link swallowed, fidgeting with the book in his hands, and then finally signed slowly, watching Daruk like a hawk, _It’s like I was born in that cave, and everyone already knew what I had to be. And I’m not. And I don’t know how to fix it, because I don’t remember what I’m aiming for._

Daruk nodded, slow and thoughtful like he was actually listening, and then turned toward Link to sign back. _You’re not the same person, but you don’t know how to tell people that, because you can’t remember who you used to be._

Link wasn’t expecting the rush of relief, so strong he had to bite down a gasp. He nodded quickly, tucking his hands close to his body as if to keep them from shaking.

Daruk grinned at him, familiar and comforting. _Then I guess we’ll be trying to figure out who you are now all together._

Link huffed breathlessly, relaxing a little even as he shrugged, a small smile playing around his mouth. Urbosa cleared her throat, and he was already tensing back up as he looked over, but when he found her, her expression was softer than he’d perhaps ever seen it.

 _Have you considered talking to I-Spell about this?_ she asked, and then added, _I-m-p-a._

Link blinked, and then shook his head fiercely. When he refocused, everyone looked surprised, Urbosa’s eyebrows high on her face.

 _Why not?_ Urbosa asked, carefully nonjudgemental. Link tilted his head, unsure.

 _She’s not my friend,_ he answered at last. Urbosa gestured for him to go on, and he clarified hesitantly, _She’s kind. I appreciate her letting me have time. But she told me not to come back until I was ready to begin. She said it was a blessing that I’d lost my memory. She wasn’t glad to see me. She’s not my friend._

Urbosa’s expression turned pensive. She nodded. _That is fair. I hadn’t considered it from that perspective. Very well. As Daruk said, all you have to do is ask._

Link smiled, small and almost bashfully pleased, and waited for the shrine pedestal to glow. When he glanced up again, Mipha was watching him, and when he caught her eye, she gave him a smile of her own.

_I am always here for you, Link._

It was a promise that, somehow, he felt down to his soul.

* * *

Link reached Highland Stable in the early evening, explored the shrine just beside it, and started feeding a drumstick to the stable’s eager guard dog before someone came to talk to him. It was one of the stable hands, with such a bashful and uncertain expression that he found himself patting the grass beside him before he could even wonder what she wanted.

She sat beside him and asked, clearly embarrassed and just as clearly hopeful, “Are you a swordsman?”

Link nodded without hesitation and bit into his skewer, already preparing himself to go back out again. She looked relieved.

“My name is Perosa, I’ve worked here at this stable my whole life.” She gestured, not at the stable, but out at the field beyond it. “There’s always been that herd of mounted bokoblin clogging up the road, and it makes trade difficult every blood moon. I wouldn’t normally want to bother you, people know to expect them, but…”

She faltered, and Link nodded encouragingly.

“The doctor’s due to come by in a few days,” Perosa continued, determined, “and we’re all out of healing elixirs. Oliff came by a couple weeks ago, he probably won’t be by for at least another month or two, and the Gerudo have been so busy that they don’t come by often anymore. We don’t really have anyone else to ask.”

Link nodded without hesitation, rising to his feet. He brushed the grease off his fingers, grabbed his slate, and asked, _“Are? Elixirs. Urgent.”_

Perosa shook her head. “But we get a lot of injured travelers passing through. They’re good to have. Please, if you can…”

Link gave her a solemn nod, patted the dog and smiled when it licked his hand, and then turned away to head up the road, waving to Daruk to signal that he was going. The others caught up in only a minute, of course.

“Got another rescue mission?” Daruk asked with obvious fondness. Link smiled a little, but shook his head.

 _Clearing the road,_ he answered, his eyes catching wistfully on the herd of horses grazing by the pond before he looked ahead. _Stable hand says there’s a doctor coming through, so I want to make it easy for them. If I start now I’ll have some time to explore too._

“And if you catch them away from the stable, you might even get some questions in,” Mipha pointed out gently. Link looked away, but she was already waving a hand before he could reply. “No, I understand – it’s embarrassing to ask me, isn’t it?”

Her smile was tinged with self-recrimination, so he tried to be gentle as he replied. _It’s easier with someone who doesn’t know me well, yes._

Mipha nodded, relaxing a little, and Revali cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me, but would someone explain to the local voe who missed some things why Link is talking to a doctor?”

 _It’s not important,_ Link dismissed instantly, face heating up uncomfortably. _I’m not asking them for anything, I just have some questions. I’m not asking them for anything._

He darted on ahead before anyone could point out the unnecessary repetition, and as soon as he spotted the bokoblin herd Perosa had mentioned, he climbed up into a tree to wait. None of the others pressed him, instead fanning out to keep watch, and slowly, he relaxed, embarrassed with himself.

He watched the herd until it came close enough to aim at, and then drew his bow, nocking an arrow to sight down carefully, clenching his jaw against the pull of his shoulder. He wouldn’t want to hurt the horses by accident.

The next few days were surprisingly easy, just a slow exploration through the area, winding up the road. He stopped halfway to Lake Hylia to explore the edge of Faron Woods, gathering crickets and frogs and mushrooms. Cleared out octoroks and blue chuchus and harvested the parts. He climbed trees for eggs and butchered a deer and washed himself in the pond, and no one asked him what he wanted to talk to the doctor about.

The next day he cleared the large monster encampment at the base of the Lake Tower, picking the monsters off a few at a time over the course of hours, and climbed the tower itself so he could map out the area. He stamped the shrines he could make out in the distance, and stared at the castle for a while before climbing down again.

It was easy; it was calming and familiar.

He cleared the bridge too, picking off the lizalfos keeping watch over the broken and rotting wagon in the middle, and picked through the remains for a while, curious and pensive by turns. Then he turned and pulled himself onto the edge, and it was a while before anyone approached him after that.

“I suppose we should just be happy it’s intact,” Urbosa murmured solemnly, assessing gaze sweeping up and down the length of the great stone structure.

The bridge must have been busy, once; they all seemed unhappy to see it like this. It was probably good that there would only be another day or two before the doctor came by.

He didn’t like to see his friends so sad.

“Do you like bananas?”

A chill went down Link’s spine, and he was already reaching for his sword as he turned around. A traveler was giving him a friendly smile, standing a little too close. Link shook his head, easing slowly off the short bridge wall.

“That’s a shame,” the traveler sighed. “But not everyone can have good taste.”

Link tensed, his intuition ringing.

“Shield!” Urbosa snapped out, and before Link could think about it, he was already bringing up his borrowed Gerudo shield to block the swipe of the hooked Yiga weapon lashing out at him.

It was a short scuffle; Link wasn’t as caught off-guard this time as he had been the previous, but his heart was still racing as the two of them tussled, the transformed Yiga reaching for their blade as Link kept them from getting to it.

There was something mad in the gleam of their eyes, a hatred that threatened to cut Link to his core, and it gave him a strength born of pure adrenaline as he shoved his knee into their gut.

Eventually, Link got enough of a hold on the blade to drive it into their shoulder, and they cried out and puffed away, leaving him pushing himself upright, panting quietly.

It didn’t make sense. Didn’t make sense.

Didn’t make sense.

“Easy, Link,” Mipha soothed quietly, crouching beside him. “Why don’t you get off the road? There might be more shrines nearby if you look.”

Link gestured incoherently, and then sat back on his heels and shook his head, unreasonably confused. He still felt out of breath, even though the fight had been so short.

 _What did I do?_ he asked at last, plaintive.

“You didn’t do anything,” Urbosa said firmly. “They serve the Calamity. That’s all they – or you – need to know.”

Link looked out towards the castle, towards the swirl of awful malice that surrounded it, and swallowed. He couldn’t imagine looking at that and being comforted by it. Loyal to it. All the sight stirred up in _him_ was an icy dread in the pit of his stomach.

“It’s astonishing what bitterness can do,” Revali agreed coldly, and then jerked his head. “Come. We can wait on the side of the bridge.”

Link nodded distractedly, turning to head back to the southern end of the bridge, and, trying to get his mind away from the encounter, asked Mipha, _Did I used to like swimming?_

Mipha paused for a split second, and then nodded, eyes on him. “We would swim together sometimes. Perhaps we can try again soon.”

“Swim together, hm?” Daruk teased, only a hint of strain in the edges of his expression. Neither of them graced him with a response, and he laughed anyway. “There should be some rivers off in Faron. Plenty of time to try.”

Link nodded again, trying to smile. _Maybe,_ he echoed vaguely.

* * *

He stayed out of sight of the road for the next few hours, mostly raiding the broken remains of the monster camp around the Lake Tower. Revali kept an eye on it for him instead, which Link was grateful for – it would be silly to let the doctor pass by unnoticed after all this effort.

“She’s here,” Revali called out in the late evening, making Link poke his head up from the wooden walls.

He followed Revali’s nod down to the distant figure of a Rito, working her slow way down the path, clearly ready to take flight at any moment should it prove necessary. Her feathers were a pale peach, dirty from the road, and she was weighed down by a pack that was almost certainly too heavy to easily fly with.

Link darted down the hill towards her, and was gratified when the others kept their distance. She started violently as he came into sight, her feathers taking a minute to smooth back down, and he gave her a sheepish wave, deliberately slowing down as he caught up.

 _Sorry for startling you,_ he said. _Do you know sign?_

“I’m afraid it’s not easy for Rito to learn,” she said apologetically. “I know very little. Did you need something?”

Link made a swift so-so motion with one hand, reaching for his slate to work through it for a minute, easily keeping pace with the Rito despite his distraction. She waited patiently, one eyebrow arching high.

 _“I have monster parts to trade,”_ he said at last, pleased at the ease of use. _“And questions.”_

The Rito hummed, eying him appraisingly. “Ah, and I assume you don’t want to wait until we reach the stable to ask these questions?”

Link shook his head violently, and silently asked her to wait while he added something else. _“I cleared the road. No monsters. Can we talk in the forest.”_

The Rito sighed and gave him a faintly weary smile. “Yes, all right. Goodness knows I won’t be reaching the stable tonight anyway. I appreciate you clearing the path.” She patted her bag. “This is a little heavy to make a fast getaway with.”

Link smiled at her gratefully, and she looked him over, clearly assessing.

“You don’t appear injured, and you must be a swordsman if you truly cleared the path – ah, are you the young man Beedle has been getting parts from lately? Link?” Link nodded, and the Rito gave him another, more genuinely pleased smile. “My name is Guinevere. It’s very good to meet you.”

The two of them went quiet after that, winding their way down the road. Link kept an eye out each way, but no one else came by, and there were no monsters in sight. Good.

Night had fallen by the time they reached Faron Woods, and Link set up camp the way he’d started to get used to, the few times he didn’t reach a stable in time. He showed Guinevere a few ingredients, meat and peppers and ironshrooms, and waited for her grateful nod before he assembled two sets of skewers from them, letting them roast by the fire before he reached for his slate again.

 _“Is now okay,”_ he asked, not wanting to be a bother. Guinevere gave him a weary smile and nodded, gesturing for him to go on. He fidgeted a little, flicking through his slate as he tried to find a good way to explain, and settled on, _“I have. Painful. Scars. Gerudo doctor suggested help.”_

Guinevere clicked her beak thoughtfully, brow wrinkling. “Willow bark? Lynel’s Mane tea, perhaps kooloo-limpah?” She was already reaching for her bag.

 _“Ralis root,”_ Link corrected. Both her eyebrows rose. He added, as quickly as he could, _“I don’t want any. I have questions.”_

There was an undercurrent of pity in her eyes that made him uncomfortable. “Are you sure? Zayla doesn’t recommend ralis root lightly, and your work is hardly going to be easy on your body.”

 _“I have questions,”_ he repeated insistently, and she sighed and nodded. _“Side effects.”_

Guinevere hummed a few notes of absent birdsong, eyes on the fire. “Ralis root… Well, ralis root is a moderate strength painkiller, so not as many as you might worry about. Some dizziness with enough blood loss, loss of appetite, itching if you’re unlucky, but you’ll retain the use of your faculties, if that’s your concern.”

Link nodded, some of the tension easing out of him. _“Where is it?”_

Guinevere tapped the ground beside her, slow and thoughtful. “Ralis root grows primarily in shallow water, in the Lanayru Wetlands and around Ralis Pond and Ruto Lake. The main body of the plant resembles bulrush, but the flowers excrete a thick, toxic blue nectar.”

Link navigated through the slate a little more, scowling as he failed to find anything that approximated his question well. He put it in manually instead, listening to the slight distortion of Zelda’s voice as she asked for him, _“What parts of the plant do need to I use?”_

Guinevere cocked her head at him, contemplative. “Do you prefer to gather your own supplies?” she asked, her voice softened a little. He nodded, not looking at her. “You use the little clusters of nubs off the roots – you’ll need to be very careful digging them up, they’re a touch fragile. Roast them in a cooking pot, crush, and take orally, about a spoonful to a dose.”

Link nodded along, navigating through his tablet to take notes before he returned to the communication rune. _“Alternatives.”_

Guinevere sighed heavily, and he winced, glancing up with some embarrassment.

But she didn’t look. Annoyed. Just tired.

“Zayla is extremely conservative with her recommendations,” Guinevere said gently. “Her and I have somewhat different standards. To properly make my own, I would prefer to examine the scarring myself. Is that alright?”

Link hesitated, reaching out to fumble with the skewers and turn them over before he answered. He couldn’t explain his discomfort, even to himself; he’d been basically putting them on display the entire time he was in Gerudo Town, so why be shy now?

 _“They are. All over,”_ he said stiltedly. _“Is that okay?”_

Guinevere’s brow creased again, but she answered, “I would appreciate being able to examine the full extent of the injury, but I won’t force you if you’re uncomfortable.”

Link fidgeted a little, and then shook his head. They were in the middle of the forest; he didn’t want to take _everything_ off. He did reluctantly start to undo the buckles and buttons of his tunic, appreciating the way Guinevere looked away while he did. Then he pulled up the legs of his trousers, grunting as he tried to get them over his knees; he left his boots on, hiding some of the burns on his feet and ankles, but he figured she’d get the idea.

He cleared his throat softly when he was done, rubbing gingerly at his shoulder, and winced when Guinevere inhaled sharply. But that was the extent of her reaction, scooting forward to examine him closer.

It was Guinevere asking questions for the next several minutes – some of them the same ones Zayla had asked him, about range of motion and limited activity, and some of them simpler. If it was hard to sleep, if it changed with the weather, if it got bad enough he was unable to focus on anything else.

He answered the best he could, easing up a little over time as she remained professional. She’d probably seen worse before, anyway, working as a traveling doctor in a place so full of monsters.

“Some people have had great success with kooloo-limpah, but it affects everyone differently,” Guinevere said at last, sitting back on her heels to mull the question over. “You would have to experiment. Hylian lavender is as powerful as it gets, but it will make you quite sleepy, so it’s best reserved for places of safety and when in severe pain. And minish seed is quite nearly as strong as lavender, but it will make you rather dotty.”

 _“Thank you,”_ Link answered, adding those notes into his slate. _“Plants.”_

Happily, she understood that as being the same question as before, and gestured for him to put his tunic back on as she answered – Hylian lavender was a tincture made from the flower of the plant, kooloo-limpah was a smoked seed from a bright yellow fruit, minish seed was roasted and eaten like ralis root and found in little pods like chestnuts.

He had to ask her to repeat herself a few times as he noted it all down, too focused to be embarrassed now, and she was gratifyingly patient as she did, even adding details as she remembered them.

By the time he was done writing all that down, the skewers were done. He grabbed them and offered one to Guinevere, who took it with a nod.

“Was that all you needed, dear?” she asked kindly, and he shook his head even as he bit down into his food, tapping through the slate with the other.

 _“Fighting,”_ he said, and when she didn’t seem to understand, expanded more carefully, _“Stiff. Pain. Help.”_

Guinevere hummed in understand, nibbling on her food contemplatively. “A salve of cool safflina and blue chu jelly should help with that, as long as you apply it regularly. Smotherwing butterflies mixed with red chu jelly may also be useful to you if you’re expecially stiff, but it’s likely to sting.”

Link nodded thoughtfully, and then prompted, _“Plants. Fighting.”_

“Only on ralis root, and only if you’re otherwise well,” Guinevere answered firmly, without hesitation. “Monsters around here are too vicious to risk going against with anything less than full awareness.”

Link gave her a small, thankful smile, glad for her openness, and spent a few minutes trying to formulate the next question. She waited patiently, eating her way through most of the rest of her skewer in the meantime.

_“I fight often. What if I get hurt again.”_

Guinevere gave him a lingering, contemplative look. “Are you wondering about complications involved in re-injuring the area?” she asked carefully. He nodded. “Any new scarring in that area is likely to be substantially worse, particularly in terms of stiffness. If you receive any burns, I would recommend getting them looked at as soon as possible, no matter how mild. Hm… Ah, and if there are any areas with decreased feeling, you should check on them manually after battles. You may not notice new injuries.”

Link nodded along, thought about it for a moment, and then noted all of that down too with some reluctance. _“Thank you,”_ he said with finality, tugging his trouser legs down, beginning to redress.

It was enough for now, at least. He didn’t want to have to make any decisions right away. He _didn’t_ have to make any decisions right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked about guardians in the last chapter, so I'll add here that to the best of my knowledge, the only labyrinth with guardians inside is the northeastern one! The other two have some monsters and malice, but no guardians, iirc. I didn't think it would be a particularly interesting inclusion (and also I really, really wanted to get out of the desert properly.)
> 
> Link will have a lot of internalized shame and self-consciousness to overcome, but I'd like to make it clear now that this story is going to trend very clearly in support of pain management and accommodations. Link is disabled in this fic, and that's fine. (There will be a substantial pain management subplot, but not an addiction one, which I clarify because the stigma runs deep.)
> 
> Additionally: the general intention is for lavender tincture to be fantasy laudanum, minish seed is fantasy muscle relaxers, ralis root is somewhere between aspirin and vicodin, and kooloo-limpah is fantasy weed. (I was very proud of that one.) There's one more that will come up later that is purely magical, mildly cursed, and does not have a real-life equivalent.


End file.
